


Impossible Love: A Novel

by chickadee333



Series: My Joker x Harleen Quinzel Series [1]
Category: DC Extended Universe, DCU, DCU (Comics), Suicide Squad (2016), Suicide Squad (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arkham Asylum, Doctor Patient Relationship, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Harley - Freeform, Healthy Relationships, Joker - Freeform, Joker porn, Joker smut, Joker x Harley - Freeform, JxHQ, Leto Joker, Life with joker, Love, Novel, Oral Sex, Sex, Sexual Tension, Smut, blowjob, club, impossible love, jxh, mansion, porn with a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 14:01:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 84,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10641324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickadee333/pseuds/chickadee333
Summary: This is a full-length novel based on the Suicide Squad storyline and contains a fully fleshed out plot with a lot of sex mixed in. This fic falls within an alternate universe in which I delve into a possible relationship between the Joker and Dr. Harleen Quinzel wherein she does not transform into Harley Quinn. This story follows the general theme of the Suicide Squad movie, but instead of Joker using electroshock on Dr. Quinzel, they find themselves in a sexy situation that takes their relationship in a *completely* different direction. While I am by no means an expert on their comic book canon and I took some very creative liberties when constructing my own accounts of their histories in order to suit my story, I did try to stay true to the essence of their characters. However, because of a few small decisions that the characters made, the dynamic of their relationship is much different than what you might find in the comics or in the movie. I also have artwork that I incorporated into this story. This entire novel contains adult content (explicit sex, violence, strong language, and, in one instance, a sexual assault). Please read and enjoy at your own risk!





	1. A New Beginning

Dr. Harleen Quinzel sat nervously in her second-floor office when she heard the loud explosion that rocked the whole building. She knew it was the Joker and his men. She gave him a machine gun, after all.  _Why did I do this?_  She thought to herself.  _I must be as insane as the Joker to have fallen for him. Am I willing to risk my career—my life—for_ _this? For his freedom?_

She heard more explosions and a commotion out in the hallway with men yelling while footsteps approached her door. A man in a strange mask burst through, pointing a big gun directly at her. “Dr. Quinzel, you’re just the person I’m looking for!” his familiar voice exclaimed. “You’re coming with me.” Harleen reluctantly removed herself from her chair and timidly approached the masked man. “Come on!” he barked at her. “Move faster!”

She could hear chaos erupting throughout the asylum amidst gunshots and she realized that she was in real danger. _Why did I do this?_ Her heart began to race as she approached the diminutive man dressed as a shark in her doorway.

He abruptly grabbed her by the wrist and jerked her body close to his while sneering. “We got big plans for you, girly. I’m supposed to take you alive, but I wasn’t told anything about not hurtin’ you a little bit.” His grip on her wrist tightened as she tried desperately to pry his fingers away with her free hand. He pushed the tip of the gun into her neck and growled like dog. 

 _This man is insane!_  She screamed in her head. Her mind was racing and thinking about her next move when a large psychology textbook on the table next to the open door caught her eye. It was within arm’s reach. Before she knew it, she grabbed the book, hit the masked man in the face with it, and used that moment of surprise to give him a swift kick in the crotch with her knee. He immediately doubled over, releasing his grip on her wrist.

“ _You fucking bitch!!”_ he screamed at her as she ran out into the hallway, scurrying over to the stairwell. She entered just as the masked man began to fire his gun at her from his position on the floor.

Harleen flew down the stairs in her high heels while cursing the fact that she had begun to dress this way.  _It was all because of him,_ she thought to herself.  _I would never have worn high heels and a skirt to my job at Arkham if it hadn’t been for him!_  She had seen the way that the Joker had looked at her, how he held her gaze a little too long. She caught him enjoying the sight of her long legs and she admitted to herself that she liked the attention. He was, in fact, quite vocal about her beauty, albeit in a crass way, but she knew that underneath his tactless compliments his body stirred at the sight of hers.

“How are you feeling today, Mr. Joker?” she remembered asking him at one particular session, as she always asked of him.

“Not too well,” he responded curtly.

“Oh? Why is that?” she questioned with a concerned look on her face.

He gave a low guttural growl. “Ever want somethin’ that you know you can’t have, Doctor?” He tilted his head and squinted his eyes while surveying her gorgeous blonde locks and supple pink lips. “I’m having a real problem with _lust_ …” he said with utmost seriousness while staring directly into her soft green eyes.

For a moment, Harleen almost felt a real human connection with the Joker. And, for a moment, his bright eyes shone with a flash of sincerity, causing her to shift in her seat.

He then reverted in typical Joker style to his toothy silver grin while inhaling a partial laugh. “I mean, what’s a guy supposed to do around here if his hands are always strapped in a jacket? I have  _needs_ , Doctor!” Then he threw his head back and erupted into laughter.

Harleen’s daydream quickly vanished as she was pulled back to the reality of gunfire and screaming. She had made it two floors down to the sub-basement where she believed she was unseen, completely forgetting about the security cameras that lined the halls. She entered a large room—an old storage room—and made her way through a labyrinth of old medical equipment, heading toward the back to a small, windowless room with a table and a few chairs. She decided this would be a good place to hide amongst the forgotten filing cabinets. In a corner, she found a space between the cinderblock wall and a metal filing cabinet where an ancient garbage can resided for what must have been decades. She quietly pulled the garbage can out and took its place in the corner on the tile floor. Harleen brought her knees up to her chest and sat huddled hoping that the police would come and the Joker and his men would leave. She was too scared to want him to find her and save her like she fantasized.

 _What have I done?_ She whimpered, biting her lip and looking up at the ceiling. _What have I done?_

*****

Harleen took long, deep breaths for the next 10 minutes or so to reduce her anxiety as she started to convince herself that the men had left the asylum. She hadn’t heard any noise. No gunshots. No commotion. Perhaps they were gone? Just as she was almost comfortable to move out from her corner, she heard some metal clanking in the large equipment room. Her pulse began to race as she heard hushed voices and the sound of feet on the floor. She felt the air pressure change in the room as if someone had just walked in.

“Well, what do we have here…?” Joker’s voice filled the dead silence in the small room. Harleen was confused by her own opposing feelings: her sense of utter fear for this clearly unstable man and yet a sense of comfort—as if the Joker were here to rescue her. He used his brute strength to slam the table toward a wall of filing cabinets, kicking the garbage can out of the way in the process.

“I woulda missed you hiding back there, my Harley Quinn, if it hadn’t been for your pointy red shoes… Tsk, tsk, Doctor.”

Harleen, still hiding in the corner, looked at the points of her red pumps in the dim light, which were beyond the protective shadow of the cabinet on her right. She desperately tried to pull her legs in closer to her body, as if Joker would no longer see her and leave.

“Oh, no you don’t, my pretty kitten!” Joker announced enthusiastically as he grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her out of her hiding spot. Her butt slid on the floor, causing her skirt to bunch up at her hips, which revealed her long legs and red satin panties in the process.

She looked up to see Joker standing above her. He was shirtless and wearing his Arkham sweatpants. She had never seen him with his shirt off and could never in her wildest dreams imagine the muscles he had hidden under his asylum attire. His arms bulged and his veins pulsed. His pale body was covered in tattoos. His brilliant green hair gleamed in the very faint light coming in through the door as he looked down on her. Disheveled strands fell down to his cheeks. He had fire in his eyes and a pained look on his face. Harleen had never seen him in such a state. He was in control. He had power. He was no longer relegated to his straitjacket and ankle shackles.

“Do you need me for anything, Boss?” one of Joker’s henchmen asked from the doorway 15 feet away.

“Just get out!” the Joker snapped, his voice bellowing through the room. “I got unfinished business here. I’ll meet you at the getaway point.”

Joker stood between Harleen’s legs as she attempted to lift herself off her back with her elbows. He gazed down at her gorgeous body knowing how he longed to have her in this position. His mind flashed to all of the late night fantasies he had in his cell thinking about what he would do to his Dr. Quinzel—to his Harley Quinn—if only he had the chance. He felt himself stiffening at the thought of it.

“Oh, I don’t think so, Doctor,” Joker snarled, seeing her squirm out from under him. He dropped to his knees over Harleen with a wide leather belt in his hands, forcing her back down to the ground. He grabbed her arms and pulled them up so he could hold her wrists down on the floor next to her head while using the belt to hold her neck in place, effectively choking her. “You left me in a black hole of rage and confusion,” he accused her.

She didn’t understand. She never intended to hurt the Joker—only to make him better. Tears stung her eyes as she attempted to speak, which would only come out as a gurgle and a grunt.

“What’s that, my dear? Joker got your tongue?” he spat at her.

He was clearly upset with her.  _Why?_  She questioned herself.  _I did everything he asked of me! I cared! I showed him concern and empathy! I put my career on the line by bringing him a machine gun! Who would do that for… for a mental patient… for anyone?!_

“I… I’m sorry!” She tried to speak again but it came out as a whisper.

Joker looked into her eyes and saw something… maybe it was sincerity that he detected. He remembered those eyes from the many therapy sessions he had with her. He remembered her kindness with the food she given him. He remembered the way she caressed his hair last night in his cell. He let up on the belt, causing Harleen to cough and gag from the release of the pressure.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, her voice hoarse. “I swear I only just learned yesterday that they were performing electroshock on you when I found you. I didn’t know, I swear. That is not part of my treatment—I don’t believe in it! I’m so, so sorry. I would never harm you in that way. I… I…” Her voice trailed off. Was she really that close to professing her love for him?

“That’s okay, Doc,” he pronounced almost flippantly. “I didn’t mind it. I’m so far gone off the edge that nothin’ is gonna bring me back and nothin’ hurts me either.” He paused, staring directly into her eyes, “But I think I can finally get something that I’ve been wanting for quite some time now…” he said in a solemn voice with a wicked silver smile while still holding Harleen’s wrists down beside her head.

“Are you going to kill me, Mr. J?” Harleen asked, slipping into her native Brooklyn accent.

“Oh, I’m not going to kill you,” he responded. He paused again and thought about what he could do to her. He had wanted to hurt her. He had planned to find her and hook her up to the electroshock machine in retaliation to the treatment given to him. But now, in a moment of clarity, he believed that she had nothing to do with it. _Maybe she is on my side after all,_  he thought to himself. Here he was, hovering over this beautiful woman on his hands and knees—a woman who risked her career to bring him a machine gun. Her skirt was up to her waist and her legs were spread wide—almost as if her body were beckoning him to enter. There was no way he couldn’t take advantage of this situation, he concluded. The thought of him inside of her swirled in his head. He was aroused completely and Harleen would have certainly seen the bulge in his pants if she had looked down. He was becoming delirious with lust as he slowly licked his lips while looking directly in her face.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he reiterated. “I  _want_  you.” And with those words he pressed himself between Harleen’s open legs. “I want you now,” he whispered to her gruffly.

Every fiber within Harleen’s body reeled in delight upon feeling his aroused cock between her legs. She was excited to know that she elicited a feeling of sexual excitement within him. She was comforted in knowing that, as much as he seemed so un-human at times, he was very much a man, as she knew he used to be. He was flesh and blood and driven by desire and lust as much as any other man. Her abdomen ached at the thought of him inside of her, their bodies glistening in sweat while their hips rocked together in an attempt to reach mutual ecstasy. She could feel herself becoming wet at the thought of it.

He dropped closer to her face and her breath trembled at their impending kiss. He looked at her delicate lips, studying them for a moment as he had many times before, and leaned down to barely even touch them before lifting back up. Then he leaned in again and ever so gently pressed his lips against hers before pulling away and looking up toward the wall behind her with a troubled look on his face. He wanted Harleen on her own terms, he realized. She was pure. She was beautiful on the inside—something that he lost so long ago or maybe never had. She was innocence. Yet he wanted her so badly. He wanted all of his fantasies to come to fruition. The fantasies of her visiting his cell at night where he would fuck her in his cot. The fantasies of their therapy sessions where he would fuck her while she sat on the table. The fantasies of her helping him break out of the asylum where he would whisk her to his mansion and fuck her all night long in every position imaginable and in every room possible. He was the king and she would be his queen.  _Why would she want me?_ He questioned himself.  _I’m a killer. I’m barely even human. She can’t heal me._  His self-doubt crept in and he pushed himself above her.

Harleen sensed his turmoil as she read the emotion in his eyes. To his surprise, Harleen slipped off her pumps, tilted her body, and brought her feet up to either side of his hips. Then she deftly slid her toes inside of the waistband of his sweatpants and pushed them down, exposing his aroused cock. She wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs and pulled him back into place between her legs.

 

Joker’s blue eyes flashed with intensity and his face suddenly became serious as he realized that Harleen wanted him, too. He could no longer resist his need to take her, having held back for so long. He was an untamed beast with an insatiable sexual appetite. He kissed her lips hard, pressing her head onto the cold tile floor while still holding her wrists down. He released her wrists and her hands immediately went to embrace his head while she pushed her nails through his hair and pulled him in for an even deeper kiss. Their lips collided together and their tongues eagerly explored each other’s mouths amidst breathy moans. With one hand holding himself above her, he used his free hand to caress her clothed breasts and stomach. Harleen responded by unbuttoning her blouse to reveal a matching red satin bra encasing her perfectly round breasts. Joker could not contain the yearning in his eyes as he put his face in her cleavage and inhaled the beautiful scent of her perfume mixed with the heady smell of sweat.

Lifting her head from the ground, Harleen cupped the left side of his face and longingly stared into his eyes. “I need you,” she whispered aloud. She almost couldn’t believe the urgency in her voice. She swallowed hard. “I need to feel you inside of me.  _Right now_.”

Lunging forward, Joker brought his lips to hers and kissed her with such passion that he thought he would explode on her and not in her. Harleen reached down between her legs and pulled her panties to the side, guiding him inside of her. He pushed in and became even more excited at the fact that she was so wet—knowing that he did that to her. Little did he know that Harleen had multiple fantasies about him: undressing in front of him, giving him a blowjob while his hands were tied in his straitjacket, fucking him on the couch in her office, being pleasured by his tongue in her bed… She was just as excited to be with him as he was to be with her and they were both realizing it in this moment.

Her lips tasted like strawberries and her hair smelled like flowers, and he was intoxicated with her scent… with her skin… with her lips… with her body. He couldn’t keep his hands off of her and cursed the fact that he couldn’t remove her bra without removing her lab coat and blouse. He grabbed her by her waist and pushed her hips down harder around his cock, eliciting a gasp from her lips. He had been so lustful for so long and Harleen was the object of his affection—the  _only_ object of his affection. He had thought about her day and night and to finally be inside of her was almost more than he could take. His lips traced a path from her ear down her jaw line to her neck and then to her breasts. Not able to restrain himself any longer, he pulled her straps down as far as they could go, providing a little give to the cups of the bra so her breasts could be revealed.  _Gorgeous_ , he thought to himself. He stroked them and began to gently suck on her nipples, continuing to suck harder as she arched her back with moans escaping her lips. She grabbed his hair with her fingers and began to pull—nearly pushing him over the edge.

“Oh, J… I w-want to f-feel you… c-cum in me…” Harleen said breathlessly as she pulled him up from her breasts. Their lips crashed into each other, hot and sweaty and slightly sweet from Harleen’s perfume. Joker cupped his hands around her face, kissing her and looking directly into her eyes while pushing himself in and out of her. She was panting and whimpering in agony. She was almost there. Almost in ecstasy. And he was the one who took her there.

This was definitely better than hurting her, he decided. He still had control over her, but in a different way. It was control over her body. And it made him ache knowing that she responded to him in this way. She arched her back again and he grabbed her by the waist, pushing himself as far inside of her as he could possibly go. He watched her face wince in a combination and pain and pleasure as her eyes rolled back.

“Ohhhh… J… I’m… gonna…” she was barely able to articulate her words through her moans. Her body trembled and her legs braced around his midsection, not allowing him to remove himself from her even if he wanted to.

Joker couldn’t take it any longer. The feeling of being inside of Harleen was too great for him to sustain. He leaned in toward her, putting his weight on her body. Holding the back of her head, he rasped in her ear, “ _Oh, Harley, I’m gonna cum…_ ” And then, in a shared cataclysm that seemed to last forever, their bodies shuddered in a frenzied pleasure, like an electrical storm coursing through their entire being. He pushed himself into her so hard when he orgasmed that it felt like he would be part of her for eternity.

After catching her breath, Harleen put her fingers below Joker’s chin and pulled his face up to hers. She could feel the tension having left his body and she felt so happy that she could be the one to do that for him. His breath was still erratic as he kissed her again. Sweat dripped from his forehead with his loose hair tickling her cheeks. This time, the kiss was deep and meaningful—not fervent as they had been in the heat of the moment. This kiss felt like the promise of more to come, the promise of a continued relationship with this man. 

 _A man_ , she thought to herself as she inhaled his scent and looked into his steel blue eyes, calm like the sky before a storm.  _He is just a man. He does have emotion. He does have feelings. He does want me._  Harleen felt validated in falling for him. They laid there in the afterglow for some time, with Joker caressing her face with his rough hands.

“Come on, Harley,” he said quietly, pushing himself above her body with his arms and hovering over her. “We better get out of here before the police arrive.” He kissed her sweetly on the lips in a gesture that was almost like he was thanking her for providing him with so much pleasure.

He stood up and pulled his sweatpants up over his still-swollen penis, not caring how much fluid their sex had generated. He offered her a hand as she attempted to stand up, her legs still quivering. Her panties were completely soaked, and their combined fluids were flowing out of her and down her leg. She smiled at the thought. She flattened her skirt down, buttoned her shirt back up, and stepped into her shoes.

“Where are we going?” she asked, liking the fact that he called her Harley. She decided then and there to accept the new moniker.

He looked down at her lips and pulled her in for a deep kiss, leaving her with tingles throughout her body.

“Let’s go home,” he replied with a gleam in his eye.

*****


	2. A Troubled Past

Harleen sat in her office staring at her computer screen. She couldn’t concentrate. It had been a rough week with a patient biting a guard on the neck, causing such damage that he couldn’t be treated in the infirmary and had to be sent to the hospital. She reminded herself that even though the population housed at Arkham Asylum was the most criminally insane, they were still her _patients_ and not prisoners as the guards referred to them. True, they were prisoners of the institute, but Harleen’s primary goal was always psychiatric rehabilitation and she liked to think she was good at it. She always knew that behind every neck-biting patient was a real human being who wanted help… Or so she hoped.

She looked at the clock on her computer. _Almost 10:00_ , she thought to herself. _My first appointment with him._ Though she knew she should be thrilled to finally begin therapy, her apprehension grew deeper not knowing what to expect.

She turned and looked at the wall behind her desk, full of framed certificates and degrees, as if she needed to prove her credentials to any visitors she received in her office. At not even 30 years old, she held a doctorate in Psychology and found herself in a revered position as a psychiatric resident at Arkham doing what she was passionate about: helping others work through their mental illnesses. She knew she couldn’t save them all—and not all of them could be saved anyway—but she would at least try. She had personal experience with mental health disorders, with an unfortunate history in her own family, and she wanted to do what she could to bring illumination to the fog that pervaded the field.

Having worked at the asylum for over a year now and gaining quite a bit of seniority in a staff that had high turnover, she was able to pick and choose some of the patients in her caseload. One patient fascinated her and she knew she wanted him the moment she heard he was being sent to Arkham: The Joker. He had been in and out of the asylum a few times over the years, having escaped in some manner each time, which caused the administrators to re-think their security plan. This time, he arrived just a few months ago, but he was so uncontrollable and disorderly that he was forced to spend his first several months in solitary confinement. She had fought with her supervisor to have him added to her caseload. “He’s a lost cause,” she was told over and over. She was glad to finally have the opportunity to have him under her care.

*****

She remembered her excitement when she was finally approved to have the Joker on her caseload and was given his file. She was a bit nervous about her meeting with him the next morning in solitary. She had prepared by taking his file home the previous night to review at her dinner table with a glass of red wine. She knew he was a really bad guy—that was obvious. _Insane, incorrigible, unable to grasp reason, psychotic, possible schizophrenia though able to make connections with reality, clear psychopathy,_ the previous doctors’ notes told her.

Joker was charged with killing multiple people, with most of them also part of the city’s seedy underworld. Not that she was trying to justify his actions, but she always tried to put herself in her patient’s shoes. She thought her methods helped her understand them better and make her more of an effective doctor as well as being able to provide an appropriate course of treatment. The folder was a mile thick, but it mostly contained items of little value: his rap sheet, which began about 10 or so years ago when he apparently arrived on the scene; a few notes from previous doctors, also not helpful as they evidently were not able to get him to talk much and most of them contained conjecture about his current state of mind; and one mugshot along with a diagram of injuries and tattoos on his body that were logged when he arrived at the asylum.

She stared at the photo for some time, studying his features. He was very pale with silver teeth, red stained lips, and bright green hair, yet there was something appealing, maybe even attractive, about him. His eyes, lacking the balance of eyebrows, were dark and sunken—perhaps a blue or gray—and seemed to lift of the page, staring straight into her soul. His light skin was littered with tattoos… on his chest and neck he had playing cards, a jester, and laughter written out… on his cheekbone the letter _J_ and on his temple a star… on his forehead the word _Damaged_ written in cursive.

“Damaged,” she said aloud to herself and wondered how far gone this man really was.

The notes from the Department of Corrections said he had a high pain resistance, was nihilistic and narcissistic, and had been charged with everything from larceny to kidnapping to murder. Her stomach sank. She had to believe there was some vestige of humanity left within him or her plan for therapy with him would be pointless.

*****

Harleen was nervous the next morning in his cell when she first came face-to-face with the Joker. The guards had to go in first, wrestling with him to apply his straitjacket and shackles around his ankles, which they attached to a ring on the floor. They wanted to make sure that Harleen was safe and protected in the small, simple room consisting of only a bed and a toilet and sink combination. _Not even a chair or desk or other basic amenities,_ she remembered her astonishment. _It almost borders on abuse, especially with new regulations for patient protection. If I were in charge of this place…_ Harleen thought about all of the changes she would introduce in order to protect her patients—ideas that the current administration did not want to hear.

As she walked into the room, she caught her first glimpse of the man who would eventually become an important part of her professional and personal life. He was sitting on the edge of his bed looking down at his bare feet, which were attached together at the ankles by thick metal cuffs and chains. His long, neon green hair had grown longer, falling down in front of his face as he sat seemingly defeated, his body curved over his knees. She couldn’t tell what his mental state was… She couldn’t see the eyes. The eyes tell so much about a person, she believed. Their intent, their sincerity, their… soul. One of the several guards brought in a chair for Harleen to sit on opposite of the Joker. She was dressed professionally as to make a positive impression on her new patient: black slacks, a gray blouse, and a white lab coat. Her long blonde hair was pulled up into a pony-tail and her light sage green eyes were framed by black glasses. Her soft-soled flats did not make a noise as she entered the room and sat down.

“Yo, asshole!” the head guard yelled, “Yer new doc is here to see you. Better be nice to her or else.” The guard clenched his right hand as if he were preparing to strike. The Joker took a deep breath and slowly released it as he looked up, almost surprised at the woman sitting across from him. Unable to hold her gaze, he began to sway, his eyelids heavy. Harleen studied him and realized that he had been drugged.

She looked up at the guard in charge and said, “What did you give him? I can’t work with this. He’s barely able to stay awake!”

“We gave him a tranquilizer,” the guard responded in matter-of-fact tone. “Don’t worry, it never seems to last long on him, and we’re authorized to give an extra dosage.”

Harleen’s could feel her cheeks and chest begin to redden as she looked over at shackled man. _Tranquilizer? Extra dosage??_ It took every fiber within her being to not let loose on a tirade about inappropriate administration and overuse of medication. She knew they were following orders—and most likely from her supervisor and chief of administration, Dr. Edwards—but she also knew that they simply enjoyed torturing the green-haired man. She was sickened. She watched him sway and struggle in his jacket as he sat on the bed, his green hair eclipsing his face.

“Mr. Joker?” she said aloud. “Mr. Joker, I’m your new psychiatrist, Dr. Quinzel. I was hoping to gather some information from you prior to beginning your new treatment plan under my care.” He was silent. “Mr. Joker?” she asked again. Turning her attention toward the guard, she asked, “How long do the effects of the tranquilizer last on him?”

“Eh, ‘bout ten minutes or so,” he responded, dusting some imaginary object from his shirt with his hand. She could tell that he had no interest in being there.

“Well, since he’s shackled, would the two of you mind leaving the room?” Harleen asked. “Perhaps having just one person in the room will help clear the air and his head.”

“We’re not supposed to leave anyone in solitary alone with a prisoner,” he replied, running his hand through his coarse red hair. It _was_ the first time Harleen had ever visited a patient in solitary confinement.

“Look, I have treated people one-on-one who were literally going crazy before my eyes,” Harleen stated bluntly. “I think I can handle a tranquilized, shackled person.”

The guard looked over at the imprisoned man and shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, doc. We’ll be outside.” And, with that, the two guards left the room to join the other two in the hallway, closing the huge steel door and locking it behind them.

 _They locked the door?_ Harleen thought to herself, trying not to feel any panic or anxiety. _It’s okay, I got this. I got this._ She sat for several minutes paging through her files as the man across from her stirred in his bed.

“Mr. Joker? I’m Dr. Quinzel. I’ll be your new psychiatrist,” her kind voice broke silence in the room.

Suddenly, Joker lifted his head, his gaze tracing a path from her shoes up to her face. He liked what he saw. “Yes, Dr. _Quinzel_? To what do I owe the honor? A visit in solitary? Why, why, that’s unheard of! You must have the hots for me, doll, I can tell already,” Joker wheezed with utter confidence.

“Mr. Joker, I am here to help you. You are now part of my caseload and I want to do whatever I can to make your visit here easier.” She almost winced at the word _visit_ —as if he would _ever_ be able to leave this place, this asylum. Barring another escape attempt, Joker would be spending the rest of his life behind these walls. “May I ask you a few questions for your therapy intake?”

“Therapy? You think I need therapy, Doc? Isn’t that for _crazy people_??” Joker rolled back slightly in his bed, laughing maniacally at his own joke.

“Yes, therapy,” Harleen responded factually. “I know that you have spent the better part of two or three months cooped up in this cell. I would like to see you a few times a week so you can have to chance to interact with people again.” She looked at his face with real concern and he looked back, uncertain if he could believe her. He stared at her a little too long, his eyes the color of cool steel but slightly red, likely from the medication. She couldn’t make any judgments about his eyes yet. She couldn’t feel any connection with them. There was no soul.

“I ain’t too good with people, Doc. There’s a reason they put guys like me in a shit hole like this,” he said soberly as he looked around the room. There was no window; the only light source was the harsh fluorescent lighting above. “Stay much longer and you’ll go crazy, too.” He looked up at the lights and squinted, turning his face back to Harleen.

“Hm…,” Harleen smiled slightly at the joke. If only he had known her family history, it wouldn’t be too far off. “I don’t want to see you in here,” she reasoned with him. “I don’t want to see _any_ of my patients in here. Now, I have a few questions to ask you.”

Joker sighed in annoyance as if she were a gnat that wouldn’t stop pestering him. “I don’t feel like answering any of your questions today, Doctor,” he said in almost a sing-song voice. “I guess you won’t have to worry about ‘therapizing’ me.” He moved his body and shoulders as if he had wanted to gesture to her with his jacketed hands. “You can go away and leave me alone now.”

Harleen sat for a moment clicking her pen and decided that she would let him win this one, even though it may give him a false sense of control. She was able to gather enough about his behavior from the brief visit anyway.

“Okay,” she said, standing up and heading to toward the door with her folding chair. She knocked on the window to inform the guards she was ready to exit. Turning back to the Joker, who looked somewhat disappointed that she gave up so quickly, she announced, “I’ll go away, but I won’t leave you alone. Our first therapy session is next Monday morning from 10:00 to 10:30. I _will_ see you there. Oh, and I’ll also see you on Wednesdays and Fridays at the same time. Goodbye, Mr. Joker!”

She turned on her heel and headed out the open door, Joker’s mouth slightly agape at her firmness with him, the disappointment having long vanished from his face. He wasn’t sure if he had ever met a woman who put her foot down with him. He liked it… maybe a little too much.

The guards re-entered the room and removed his jacket and shackles. Joker didn’t put up the fight they had expected—indeed, one guard was ready with yet another syringe. The red-headed guard utterly hated the Joker and would take any chance he could get to subdue him with violence, often punching him in the face or abdomen. Unfortunately, he knew that the Joker could take him any day of the week if he didn’t have two other guards around to help restrain him. Joker knew this, too. But, this day, the Joker didn’t move and instead stared through the men toward the wall, as if he could see an apparition of Dr. Quinzel. _His_ doctor.

As the guards left the room, they yelled some inappropriate remarks, which Joker didn’t comprehend. His mind was a million miles elsewhere, his lips curled into a half smile. _I’ll go to therapy_ , he thought. _I’ll go… I’ll go…_ “It’ll be _fun!!_ ” he yelled aloud to Harleen's vanishing apparition on the other side of the room. Then he proceeded to laugh a punctuated, unnerving laugh to himself, falling back on the bed and looking up at the lights.

*****

Harleen snapped back to reality. The time was now 9:55 and she didn’t want to be late to her first session with the Joker. She left her office and headed down the hallway to another wing of the asylum where the prisoners—the _patients_ —were housed. She entered a large patient reception area where she made her way to the section of small interview rooms.

 _The asylum is always so quiet,_ she thought to herself. Orderlies were transporting a patient on a bed who had clearly been drugged. His mouth was covered in a mask and his hands and feet were shackled to the frame. _Just a normal day at Arkham_ , she mused, having decided long ago to maintain a sense of humor because it was often the only light in this tunnel of darkness.

“Interview room number three, Dr. Quinzel,” the voice of the pretty redhead at the desk broke the silence in the room. Harleen turned and nodded her head in appreciation.

She approached room number three where two guards stood outside. “We didn’t tranq him this time, Doc, as you requested. He’s shackled to the floor and his jacket is on. If he gives you any shit, just push the button,” the head guard said loudly, referring to the panic button attached to each interview table, as if he wanted the Joker to hear him. Harleen was appreciative of the support, though she hoped it wouldn’t resort to that.

She pushed through the door into the dimly lit room to see her new patient seated at the table, straitjacket on and feet shackled just as the guards told her. He was looking down at the tabletop, the soft light from the window opposite the door filtered through the room, turning his disheveled hair into green flames. A weak fluorescent light fixture hung from the ceiling above the table providing very little additional illumination. _What is with this place and its inadequate lighting?_ Harleen pondered as she had many times before. She took a deep breath and strode into the room, sitting in the chair across the table from the Joker.

“Hello, Mr. Joker. How are you feeling today?” she asked, placing her files on the table.

He looked up at her with a displeased look on his face. “Oh, well, I’m just fine,” he snapped. “The food sucks, the rooms suck, I get one hour a day out of my cell, the guards beat me every chance they get, and my house mates are fucking _insane_!” He opened his mouth and flashed a big silver-toothed smile. “But enough about me, how are _you,_ Doctor?”

 _I see he has to maintain a sense of humor in this place, too_ , Harleen realized. “I’m sorry to hear that Mr. Joker.” She looked down at her files realizing that he was filed under _J_ for _Joker._ “Do you have a name I can call you?”

“The name is Joker. You can call me Mr. Joker, J, Mr. J, or, as I prefer, _Daddy_ …” he said, flipping his head up, which tossed strands of long hair out of his face. His eyes gleamed in the light from the window on his right. They were bright blue—no longer sullen and gray—and they flashed with fire as he looked at her.

“I’ll stick with Mr. Joker for now, thank you,” Harleen responded, looking at the man seated before her. She was finally able to absorb more of his features. She had looked at his photograph for such a long time that his face was almost familiar, as if she could draw it from memory. He looked better than he did in solitary. His skin was still pale, almost gray and ashen, which could be an effect of the medication. His eyes lacked the dark make-up he had been known to wear, his facial scars were more visible, and his lips were nude.

“See something you like, Doc?” he asked.

Harleen quickly caught herself, remembering the diagram of his injuries, and blurted, “You had a few physical injuries, Mr. Joker. Stab wounds and lacerations, if I recall. How are they? Have they been treated?”

He smiled, enjoying the attention. “Oh, I’m all healed up, Dr. Quinzel. I’d strip for you so you could see with your own eyes, but, as you see, I just _can’t_.”

“No, that’s okay,” she reassured him. “I know I’m a psychologist, but I like to make sure that my patients are taken care of physically as well as mentally.”

“How thoughtful,” he replied.

“I see that your previous doctors have prescribed Thorazine, Haldol, Compazine… among many others. I’m not sure if that’s the course of treatment that I want for you,” Harleen stated with sincerity, knowing that most antipsychotic drugs act as a chemical straitjacket, relegating users to a zombie-like state. “How have you felt over the past three months?”

“How have I felt? How have I felt?” Harleen could sense the rage building within him instantaneously and she was glad he was in the straitjacket. “I was told that I am crazy… insane… a _psycho_ … that I can’t make heads or tails of reality… But I’ll tell ya what, Doc, those drugs, the tranquilizers, the electroshock _therapy_ … Well, I think they have ensured that I _stay_ crazy! Whoo-whee!”

Harleen had a puzzled look on her face. “Electroshock therapy?” she questioned. “We don’t approve that course of treatment here at Arkham.”

“Oh, is that so? Well, then maybe I’m just so _crazy_ that I don’t know what’s real anymore,” he said with an accusatory tone in his voice.

“Mr. Joker, I’m sorry. I saw nothing about electroshock in your file and we had received an order to discontinue those practices many years ago unless we had a ton of safeguards in place. But…” she paused, contemplating his words and lowering the volume of her voice. “I believe you. Electro-convulsive therapy can be helpful in some cases, but not all, and it’s certainly disallowed without patient consent. I’ll get to the bottom of it. You’re _my_ patient.” She looked at him softly, beginning to understand why he was the way he was. “I want to taper your medication so I can get a baseline because I don’t think what you are on is an effective course of treatment. Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever you say. You’re the doctor,” Joker said, his voice low and gruff.

“Good. I’m also going to accompany you to the infirmary where we’ll get you a hair cut, maybe have your teeth looked at, and have someone check out any injuries, as long as you promise not to bite,” Harleen gave him a half smile, hoping that he would appreciate her humor in light of recent events at the asylum.

“Hm,” he paused, examining her face suspiciously. “That’s nice of you, Doc,” he stated in a truthful and perhaps thankful tone. Harleen was taken aback, not expecting that from him. It was as close to a thank you as she would ever get and she was happy with it.

“We’ll head down on Wednesday during our session to get these things taken care of,” Harleen said as she pushed back from the table and stood up. She approached his side of the table and put her hand on his shoulder, causing him to turn his clear blue eyes in her direction. “I’m here for you, Mr. Joker,” she smiled, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze, sending tingles down his body. It was the first normal touch he had received in a _very_ long time.

Confused by his own blurred emotions, he momentarily thought that maybe they had made a connection. Instantly, he pictured himself free from his jacket, using his hands to remove all of her clothing and pulling her body to straddle his lap. He imagined himself deep inside of her, in the depths of her warmth and wetness. He kissed her beautiful lips and she smiled. He hardened at the thought of it and knew that he would have to take care of it later that day in his cell.

Harleen turned to leave, knowing that she was cutting their session short. She wanted to let him know that she was in charge and could end a session at her own will. She admitted to herself that she wanted to spend more time with him. She was trying to remain the consummate professional—indeed, that is how she achieved so much at such a young age—but she couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes. She did sense a soul within them. It was a pained and sad soul, but it was there, hidden deep within his cerulean depths. She thought maybe she could be the one to save him, to comfort him, to… _Don’t go there!_ Harleen admonished herself. She reached for the door knob and turned around to look at the Joker, who had watched her walk away.

“See you Wednesday!” she said with a smile and left the room.

*****


	3. An Unspoken Lust

Nearly two months passed with Dr. Quinzel and the Joker learning more about each other during their scheduled therapy sessions. Harleen believed that in order to generate trust within a patient, she would have to reveal a little bit about herself in the process. Meanwhile, she learned virtually nothing about the enigma that was the Joker, and she confessed to herself that the mystery only added to his appeal.

Joker had been pulled out of solitary and placed into the residential unit during the week of their first session. He had a fresh new haircut, with a little length on the top. The barber did not want to comply initially as he planned to buzz it like most other prisoners. But Harleen flashed her gorgeous smile and asked him for this favor, to which he capitulated. She didn’t use her beauty very often, but knew that she could get what she wanted when she wanted it. He was offered a shave but didn’t need one as apparently he had a reduced his ability to grow hair on his face. His teeth were checked—“No cavities,” the dentist said, unsurprised as most of his teeth were encased in metal anyway. Harleen also had a doctor check him for infection or poor healing of any wounds as the asylum was notorious for poor hygiene.

 _At least now he is in a regular cell with more amenities available to him_ , she thought to herself, happy with the fact that he was out of solitary.

Joker also seemed a bit more comfortable interacting with Harleen. He would avoid her questions and mainly demand that she answer his, but she felt that they were really beginning to build trust even though he would insist that she get out of his head. She revealed to him her path to obtain her doctorate, explaining that she chose psychology because she had a deep passion for helping others. She sensed that he didn’t buy it, however; he was very astute and was becoming more so as the drugs began to taper, she determined. She swore that she would never reveal to him her true motivation for the field, which involved watching her father fall into a deep mental illness from which he never recovered. Harleen had experienced this type of affliction herself, but worked hard to keep her head above water. She disclosed that she was a gymnast throughout high school and college and that she enjoyed running and painting. On the other hand, Harleen knew that Joker liked money, silver and gold, tattoos, fast cars, and killing people when he didn’t get his way. He told her some stories about his work, his team, and how the police force was on his payroll. “A temporary inconvenience,” he told her when she presented him with the fact that he _was_ captured and placed in Arkham. She worked with him to provide him methods of anger management and dealing with situations in which he had no control, though she was never certain that he was actually internalizing any of the information.

She also sensed that Joker was loosening up around her, maybe even caring for her in his own way. She found him studying her hands or her hair, as if he had wanted to reach out and caress her. He never could because his hands were always strapped in his jacket. During the seventh or eighth week, however, Harleen asked the guards if they would be able to deliver him to the interview room without the jacket, just to see how it went.

“How are you feeling today, Mr. Joker?” Harleen asked, just as she asked at the start of every session like a broken record.

Joker was seated at the table in his regular spot, leaning back in his chair with his hands on top of his head. He was looking at the ceiling when he responded, “Not too bad, doctor.”

Harleen sat down, hoping that he would have looked at her as she moved across the room. She found herself wearing sexier clothing with each session as she wanted the Joker’s attention. On this day, she wore blue wedge heels, a dark blue skirt, and a patterned blouse with the buttons opened to her cleavage. Of course, she wore her white lab coat to convey a sense of professionalism.

“You’re looking hot today, Harley,” Joker stated, never breaking eye contact with the ceiling.

“Please, Mr. Joker. You must call me Dr. Quinzel. Or Harleen if you absolutely must...”

“Harleen. Hmph,” he responded in retaliation. “I like Harley. Harley Quinn. It has a good ring to it, don’t you think?” He turned his gaze from the ceiling to face her. He knew that just looking at her would arouse wicked thoughts and cause his body to stir. “Your hair is down. I like it,” he said while raising his forehead muscles where his eyebrows should be.

“Th-thanks,” Harleen said, flustered, not expecting the compliment. She found herself looking at the man across from her, and, for the first time, he was not wearing a straitjacket. He looked somewhat commanding in his gray, long-sleeved _Property of Arkham_ shirt and his typical navy Arkham sweatpants. She could tell that his slender body was muscular under his clothing and found herself imagining him with his shirt off, massaging his tense arm and chest muscles. Her lower abdomen twinged and her face flushed hot, which reminded her that _she_ was a professional and she had to stop thinking these thoughts. Distracting herself, she asked, “How do you feel with your hands free today? If it goes well, maybe we can make this commonplace.” She flashed a warm smile at him.

“I have to tell you, I’m really likin’ this, Doc.” He paused. “Now, if only we could do something about my feet,” he said, shaking his shackles causing the metal to clank together.

“Well, maybe someday if you’re good,” she responded.

“Oh?” Joker tilted his head and looked at her, as if she had just propositioned him sexually.

Ignoring his insinuation of sex, Harleen returned to looking at her file as she had a few things she wanted to discuss during the session. “Mr. Joker, please tell me about how you are feeling now that we’ve had a few weeks since we changed your course of…” Her voice trailed off as Joker watched her pink lips moving, getting lost in the moment.

All he could think of was reaching over to hold her face and kiss her. He imagined pushing the table out of the way and approaching her, his feet unfettered. He would lean down and gently kiss her soft lips as she looked at him in surprise, causing her to tingle between her legs and throughout her body. Pulling her up out of the chair, he continues to kiss her while stroking her long, blonde hair. She reaches up underneath his shirt to feel his hard chest and abdominal muscles, becoming turned on at their strength. His hands move to her shoulders, pushing the lab coat off her arms and to the ground. Ripping her blouse open, buttons fly in every direction, revealing her beautiful breasts. With hands like magnets, he grabs them, rubbing and pinching her erect nipples through her lacy bra with his fingers. Continuing to kiss her, he reaches behind her in a tight embrace, feeling for the zipper on her skirt, which opens in one quick motion. Her skirt falls to the floor revealing an almost naked Harleen. Joker, hard as a rock, decides he must have her immediately, and he knows that she wants it too. He reaches into her panties and rubs her very wet slit with his fingers, dipping slightly inside of her opening and using the wetness to gently caress her clit, causing Harleen to gasp in pleasure and making his cock even more erect.

Driven by the yearning in his loins, he pushes her panties to the floor and pulls his own pants down to reveal his very aroused cock. He picks her up, her legs straddling his pelvis, and walks her to the edge of the table where he places her down. Sweaty and anxious to feel her surrounding him, he kisses her hard and uses her hand to help guide him inside. _God, you’re so wet,_ he whispers in her ear as he pushes in harder and rocks his hips into hers. Within minutes, Harleen throws her head back in rapture, having been so hot and ready for him that any touch of his sends her over the edge.

 _Oh, Daddy_ , she exclaims, sealing Joker’s need to explode inside of her, his groin aching with fire, he— 

“—Mr. Joker?” Harleen inquired loudly, pulling him out of his reverie. His hands immediately moved to his crotch under the table to cover his enormous erection, not that it would be seen. “Are you there, Mr. Joker? I was asking you about your medication and how you are doing.”

“Oh, uh, it’s good,” Joker said, swallowing hard as he realized that he was staring at her with his mouth open. “It’s all good,” he reiterated, quickly finding his normal composure. “Look, I think I should go. I’m feeling a little tired today,” he lied while pressing on his hardened member, hoping it would go down.

“Oh, okay, if you’re not feeling well, I understand. I hope the reduction in medication is not having too many adverse effects on you,” Harleen stated with a bit of disquiet in her voice. She took a few minutes to look through her records to make sure she wasn’t missing anything. She stood up from the table and looked at him, interested in how his eyes seemed softer in appearance than they ever had before. She smiled her perfect smile at him. “I’ll see you next week, then. Hands free next time?”

His mind immediately flashed to his freed hands fondling her naked breasts. The scent of her delicious perfume filled his nose. “I hope so, Doc. I hope so.”

And, with that, Harleen left the room and allowed the guards back in. Walking over to the Joker, they found him completely compliant and permitting them to easily put his handcuffs on and unlock his shackles from the floor.

“Gee, if you were this calm all of the time, we wouldn’t hafta shock ya,” the head guard said into his ear, referring to the highly regulated practice that Harleen could never verify was actually occurring. The Joker gritted his teeth and growled like a dog.

“There it is!” the guard proclaimed. “Let’s get you back to your cell. It’s been a while since you’ve had a date with the machine in the basement! We’ll have to correct that tonight!”

*****

The guards walked Joker back to his new cell not far from the interview room and locked him in. _Fuck,_ he thought. The medications he could handle as well as the physical abuse from the guards, but the electroshock therapy had to end. He wondered if Harleen really didn’t know about the procedure. _There’s no way she doesn’t know_ , he asserted. He thought for a moment and decided that she genuinely cared about his health, thinking about all of the things that she had done for him in the past two months. _Maybe she really doesn’t know..._

He leaned against the door and looked around his room. He had a few more amenities in this room, though not much: bed, toilet, sink, desk, chair, mirror, books, a change of clothes… He imagined his clothes on the floor next to Harleen’s. Her apparition seated naked on the edge of his bed, her legs open.

He gets on his knees between her legs with his face licking her slit, her hands holding his head steady. He moves his kisses up to her breasts and begins sucking her nipples as if his life depended on it. His hard dick is poised at her entrance, drenched with her juices and ready to take him in…

The thoughts swirled in his head, making his heart pound and arousing him to the point that he needed to finish. Pulling down the front of his pants, he grabbed his cock and leaned back against the door, his chin turned upward. Stroking faster and faster, his mind was flooded with images of Harleen and the perfection that she embodied—her brain, her body, her personality, her smile, her ass, her tits, her soft, wet pussy. The veins in his face and neck protruded and his eyes closed as he quietly groaned, reaching his orgasm while thinking about how he wished he could enjoy this pleasure with Harleen.

After cleaning himself up with some tissues, he laid down on his bed shirtless, his face toward the ceiling. Smiling to himself, he thought about what he would do if he could break out again. _I did it before, I’ll do it again_ , he assured himself. He would show Harleen what life is really like. He would set her free. And he knew that she would be the key to his freedom, he just had to figure out how.

Pondering this for a while, his thoughts again turned to Harleen. He could not remember ever feeling this way about a woman before. His thoughts about her seemed to hijack his brain and he couldn’t stop. He would take her to his mansion. He would invite her to his bed where he would fuck her. He would fuck her in the hot shower. He would fuck her on his desk. He would fuck her in the pool, in the kitchen, on the couch, on the floor, on the car, on the counter… the options were limitless, and he became aroused yet again. Slowly pulling his hand along his shaft, he imagined that Harleen was with him on the bed, riding him, bucking her hips, holding her breasts, and moaning, _J, oh J, you’re gonna make me cum!_ His pelvis tightened with an electrified shudder extending up his shaft as he ejaculated onto his stomach. Reeling in the afterglow, he steadied his breath and concluded that he definitely needed to share this feeling with Harleen. He had never felt more energized than when he was with her. And he hoped she would feel the same way…

*****

Joker sat at his desk finishing off the tasteless dinner provided to him by the orderly through the opening in his wall, almost like a mailbox. There was nothing to do in his small room. Absolutely nothing. He occasionally was given a magazine or newspaper by the orderlies or Harleen so he could have something to occupy his time. Fortunately, for him, he was able to keep tabs on his men this way. He knew that Frost, his right-hand man, had been able to keep the Joker Empire going through various money-making strategies. The incompetent police force had no clue. Other than the occasional reading, eating, and meeting with Harleen, his only other outlet was exercise. He was able to leave his cell for one or two hours a day for leisure activity. Some chose to use the library or sit in the courtyard. Joker always chose to lift weights in order to keep up his strength and then shower.

After relaxing for some time at his desk, he decided to get up and do some push-ups in front of his bed, switching from two arms to one. His body was sweaty and strands of hair fell in front of his face as he envisioned himself above Harleen, with her body on the floor below him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her treatment method did seem to work as he felt more clear-headed than ever now that he was off the psychiatric medication. The electroshock “therapy” had decreased significantly since Harleen started seeing him, but he could handle it. It wasn’t necessarily the pain of the shock—though the guards turned the machine to its highest level—it was the numbness, confusion, and memory loss that really affected him. He didn’t like not being charge of his faculties. If he were a crazy lunatic, he wanted it to be on his _own_ terms.

A sound at the door caused him to stop and stand up, his muscles red and engorged from the exercise. Three guards entered the room and rushed Joker with a bat. They had come to fulfill their promise of providing electroshock therapy that evening. Joker was able to get a powerful punch in on the large one with red hair, smashing him directly in the nose, which started to bleed immediately. _Winston_ , the name tag said on his uniform. He was the head guard who was always involved in brutalizing Joker in some way. The man with the bat attempted to swing at Joker’s back, but Joker jumped out of the way and kicked him in the chest.

Winston, crouched on the ground holding his nose with blood dripping on the floor, gave the order to the third guard.

“Do it,” he said.

The guard promptly tased Joker, whose electrified body convulsed and dropped to the floor. Now that he had almost completely tapered off his psych medications which caused disorientation, the guards no longer had the upper hand on him when it came to surprise visits. Joker was strong and they knew it, as evidenced in this interaction. They hoped the taser would work, which it did. It gave them enough time to quickly move his body to the gurney they had left outside of his door.

Winston grabbed a towel and held it to his bloody face proclaiming, “We ain’t gonna hold back tonight, fellas!”

*****

They carted his strapped body on the gurney down the patient elevator to the sub-basement. It was quiet. It was always quiet in the asylum, but it was particularly quiet in the sub-basement. The walls were old cinderblock with yellowed paint flaking off. The hallway had many offshoots into wings that hadn’t been used for several decades—except for the one with the electroshock equipment. They turned left down the hall, then right down another hall, then left through two swinging doors and into a large dark room. They stopped next to a metal table with the electroshock machine, its outdated knobs and buttons clearly demonstrated that it was at least 50 years old. Winston joyously grabbed the paddles as he powered up the machine to the highest level.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” the Joker’s laughed split the air in the quiet room. “DO IT!” he commanded them, his blue eyes enraged. “DO IT!”

“You got it, fucker,” Winston roared as he put the paddles on Joker’s temples. The shock made his body convulse violently even though he was strapped in.

“HAHAHAHA, you’re killing me, Win!” Joker shrieked, his head rolling back and forth as if he were enjoying the torture.

“This dude is fucking insane,” the guard with the taser said. It was his first time witnessing the event.

“No shit! That’s why Edwards has us do this.” Winston replied, referring to the chief of administration in charge of the patients and who was also Harleen’s direct supervisor. Winston needed no convincing from Edwards to provide this treatment to Joker. _Do it discreetly_ , he remembered being told. Winston gathered several men in his crew that he knew he could trust—and who had no respect for Joker.

He turned up the power on the machine, shocking Joker once more. His body convulsed again and he continued laughing, punctuated by gasps and coughs.

Winston hated the man and he hated that Harleen was giving him so much attention. Winston admitted to no one that he was infatuated with her, and, to his dismay, she never seemed to notice him. _She’s just so professional,_ he declared to himself. _I just know she would be different around me if we didn’t have the relationship clause as employees,_ he thought, reminding himself of the fact that the hospital would not condone any sexual relationship amongst employees. He tensed his lips and sneered, thinking about how caring she was toward the Joker. _Fucking prick!_ He screamed in his head. He had an idea...

“Oh, I’m just following orders, Mr. Joker. _Dr. Quinzel_ has now ordered me to give you treatment several times a week. I don’t think she really _cares_ about you,” he hissed, trying to twist Joker’s perception. Though he was just a guard, he learned from Dr. Edwards that electroshock can cause patients to feel confused and have trouble with their memory. And he was doing his best to implant nonsense into Joker’s brain. Unfortunately for Joker, it was working.

Joker laid on the table, his body seizing with each application. The confusion was setting in as he was imagining Harleen in the room at the mere suggestion of her name. Current was sent through his brain again and he felt himself slip away into something like sleep but not. He heard distorted voices. _Maybe we should give him a lobotomy, whaddya say?… Here hold this, I wanna get a selfie… Fucking asshole… We need to do this more often…_

Joker’s brain was not able to comprehend reality anymore. He couldn’t think any thoughts and he could only feel rage. He couldn’t even remember where he was or what he was doing. Ancient memories arose and then dissipated like they were a dream. He didn’t realize that he was lying on the floor in his cell until hours later when he felt a cool liquid on his foot. He lifted his head to see that it was Winston’s blood that had pooled on the floor. Too exhausted to do anything, he put his head back down and fell asleep.

*****


	4. A Forbidden Desire

The weekend progressed and Joker received more of the same treatment each day. By the time his appointment with Dr. Quinzel rolled around on Monday, his mind was completely fried. The guards arrived at his cell and placed him in a straitjacket— _because he assaulted two guards on Friday_ , they told Harleen. Winston showed her his broken and bruised nose in an attempt to gain sympathy and maybe a caress on the cheek, which did not happen.

Harleen entered the interview room on a mission to discover why Joker’s behavior had taken a turn for the worse. She was dismayed upon seeing him in his straitjacket again.

“How are you feeling today, Mr. Joker?” Harleen asked. “I heard you had a bit of a scuffle on Friday. Care to explain how that happened?”

Joker sat back in his chair, his mind in a daze, and demanded, “You tell me, why don’t ya, Doc.”

“I don’t know what you mean. Is it the medication? Maybe I shouldn’t have tapered you off so quickly. I’m sorry. I can check with my supervisor to see what we should do.” She stared at him, looking at his dark and bloodshot eyes and knew that something was truly wrong.

He tilted his face up to the ceiling, a smirk on his face. “Did you injure yourself?” he heard her say, but he was too engrossed in the ceiling tile to pay attention.

Harleen looked at him. She was distressed to know that her treatment plan wasn’t working. _Why isn’t it working? I thought it was helping!_ She hated the fact that she wasn’t able to help this man. She had been working with him for over two months now. She changed his medications, she gave him certain privileges, she gave him some good strategies for dealing with his anger—or so she thought—and here he was, back in his jacket at rock bottom.

The thought of electro-convulsive therapy crossed her mind. _Not in a million years,_ she remembered Edwards telling her. He swore up and down that no patient was receiving it without providing informed consent and without additional medication, which meant that virtually no patients would receive it. It could actually be a very helpful treatment in some instances, she knew, but very few of the patients in her unit had the wherewithal to provide informed consent.

She stared at the man across from her. He seemed to have lost the vigor and vitality that he had displayed just last week. She took a moment to examine his tense neck muscles and how they led down to his tattooed chest. Harleen tried desperately to build a professional wall of trust between herself and her patients. To fantasize about them would erode that trust. But she couldn’t help it. She just wanted to hold his head in her hands and tell him it would be okay. _She_ would make it okay. She wanted him to let her in. She wanted to please him in ways that only she could provide... her thoughts continued and she found herself breaking that professional wall…

She imagined herself in front of him, leaning down to kiss him gently on his surprisingly soft lips, apologizing for the poor course of treatment she had prescribed to him. She begins to undress, dropping her coat to the floor. She carefully undoes her buttons and watches as he licks his lips in anticipation of what lies under her blouse. He smiles when he sees that she is wearing a shiny satin green bra, the same bright color as his hair, which she chose for that reason alone. She gradually removes her skirt to reveal matching panties. Now standing in front of him in her bra and panties, wearing black high heels, Joker absorbs every facet of her perfect body—her smooth skin, her delicious curves, her strong legs...

She leans in again to kiss him, placing her hands on his thighs while slowly descending to her knees. Kneeling in front of him, she rubs his muscular legs from his knees to his hips and reaches her fingers into his waistband. He slides his body toward her in his chair, allowing her better access. Pulling the front of his pants down, she exposes his incredibly erect cock, the tip glistening with its juices. She begins to suck on it, twisting her head as she moves up and down his shaft. Shocked by the intense pleasure, Joker flips his head back in his chair and then forward again to look down at her. He wants so much to grab her head and feel her body while she pleases him like this, but Harleen enjoys the fact that he can’t move his arms. It makes her feel like _she’s_ in control and Joker is _her_ subordinate. She brings her hand up to stroke him as she continues to lick and suck. Suddenly, and without warning, she feels his body tense as he lets out a lungful of air. _Harley… Oh, Harley…_ He pants as he orgasms into her warm mouth. Slowing to a stop, she licks every drop of fluid from his tip and swallows, looking up at him with a wicked smile.

Snapping out of her daydream, Harleen realized that she was giving Joker that same wicked smile. _Thank goodness he’s still looking at the ceiling,_ she thought to herself. She did not want to let on that she was attracted to him— _really_ attracted to him—because she was supposed to be his doctor, not his lover. She swallowed hard, her mouth dry, and shifted in her seat feeling her wetness between her legs. _He could fuck me right now and I would be so ready,_ she thought, knowing that his touch would be electric. She knew her chest must be flush with redness from her physical reaction to her fantasy and she took a drink from her water bottle to help cool herself down.

She eventually sat in the room with him for approximately 15 minutes—most of it waiting in silence while reviewing her notes. She would ask a question and Joker would grunt, not removing his eyes from the ceiling. She so badly wanted to see his eyes again. She wanted to know that he was okay. She stood up, walked over to him, and pulled out her pen light, which she used to flash in his bloodshot eyes. She had never been this close to his face before at just inches away. Harleen could feel his hot breath hit her skin and she watched his chest heave as he exhaled. His pupils were very slow to respond to the light and she knew something was wrong. Then, fixing his gaze on her, he opened his mouth and snapped at her in an attempt to bite her on the face.

Harleen slapped him on the cheek. “Do _not_ do that again!” she reprimanded him harshly.

A momentary look of surprise registered on his face. He turned toward the window and callously demanded, “Go away.”

She grabbed her files and left the room.

****

The electroshock therapy continued for the Joker night after night. Not intended for daily use, the procedure helped to disrupt electrical connections within his brain causing some amnesia with a lot of confusion and anger.

He laid on his bed with his hands to his forehead trying to decide what was real and what was not. He didn’t like that he was no longer in charge of his faculties. The medicines didn’t seem to affect him, but the electroshock was awful. When conducted by actual trained professionals, electroshock would only be administered if an anesthetic and a muscle relaxant had been provided. Of course, Joker did not have the luxury of these drugs, which only amplified the negative effects of the treatment.

He spent nearly the past week in a daze from the treatment, almost not remembering entire days, as if they were consumed by a black hole. He barely remembered waking up, eating, and sessions with Harleen. He was hardly able to exercise because he simply couldn’t concentrate. Time seemed to span forever but to also pass immediately. He couldn’t remember how he got from place to place, though he knew he had moved or had been moved. He hated this feeling and wished he were home in the warmth of his own bed. He imagined himself lying on a sea of pillows in the heat of the morning sun coming through the large window opposite his bed in his room at his huge mansion. He knew he had to get back. He had over a billion dollars tied up in his empire and he knew how to live life to the fullest. He thought about his trusted men—how they were setting the stage for a jailbreak, how they knew this stay was temporary, how they had no doubt that he would return to his throne as the prince of crime.

His hands shook slightly as he massaged his throbbing temples. His mind flashed to the dark basement room where he took the abuse from the men and their machine. He was positive now that Harleen knew about the treatment. He had seen and heard her there. He smelled her sweet perfume. He knew she was in on it. He concluded that she got her kicks from pretending to want to treat people, but also making sure that they depended on her for therapy. It was a brilliant ploy, he thought, his mind still in a fog.

In a rare moment of quasi-clarity, his mind flashed to a conversation the guards held one night while they were torturing him. _Ziggy._ He had heard the guard Winston say that name. Joker knew a Ziggy. He was part of his trusted team and a member of his inner circle. “Ziggy better pay up soon,” Joker swore he heard Winston say, leaving Joker in an even more confused state. He couldn’t understand why Winston was discussing one of _his_ men. The thought nearly vanished from his mind as he turned in his bed onto his side. He simply did not have the mental energy to give it any more thought.

****

Harleen sat in her office Friday morning getting ready to prepare for that day’s session with Joker. This would be only the second time that she met with Joker that week having decided to cancel their Wednesday session. Looking at his file and her course of treatment, she put her head in her hand. “I just don’t get it,” she said aloud. She thought about how Joker was clearly devolving even though her treatment was logical.

“Don’t get what?” Dr. Edwards asked from her doorway.

“Oh, hey, Wayne,” she sighed. “I just don’t understand why the Joker just doesn’t seem to be getting better. We were doing _so_ well. Now… now he’s barely lucid. He snapped at my face on Monday. He says terrible things about me, I mean, more terrible than he has said when things were going well…” She trailed off.

“Harleen,” Wayne said, taking a seat in front of her desk and taking a deep inhale, “I can pull him from your caseload if you are not comfortable. I mean, maybe he needs an authoritarian figure. Dr. Bremmer or Dr. Carlyle would probably be willing to take him off your hands.”

“You know I don’t want that,” she countered. “I believe that there is good within him. I have seen it. I know he can’t be reformed, but I think his mental state can be made better and maybe it would help him make better decisions in the future. I have already given him some good tools to help control his anger.”

Dr. Edwards, in his 60s and close to retirement, looked at Harleen and shook his head. “Always the idealist, Dr. Quinzel. Sometimes things don’t work the way you want them to because people are just too far gone. And the Joker is by far one of the most insane patients we’ve ever housed here. I think his insanity is balanced by his amazing genius and intellect, which is probably why he _seems_ like he could respond to your therapeutic treatments. But you should know that he never will because he is manipulative to the core. He’s a killer, Harleen.”

“So you’re just willing to write him off?” Harleen asked.

Dr. Edwards stood up and stared down at Harleen with a grim look. “Some people just can’t be saved, Harleen. Maybe it’s time to give this one up. Put him back in the hole. It’s what society wants. Just ask yourself why we are spending so much time trying to provide rehabilitative services to this... this _Joker_ when we know for a fact that he can never be rehabilitated? He is a psychopath, Harleen. I have over 40 years in the field. Trust me on that. I can take the case off your hands at any time,” he concluded as he started to walk away.

Harleen pulled her lips together in a terse frown. She didn’t want to admit it. She respected the man in front of her even though they didn’t always see eye to eye. Looking down at her treatment plan, she was reminded with her note about electro-convulsive therapy.

“Wayne?” she called to him just as he was about to reach the door. “Are you absolutely, positively sure that he is not receiving ECT? That could potentially explain his rapid change in behavior.”

Dr. Edwards stopped and turned around to look at her. His voice slightly annoyed, he responded, “Harleen, we have _had_ this discussion before. You know that we do not use ECT in this facility without consent, which means that we generally don’t use the treatment. The equipment we have is as old as I am. It probably doesn’t even work anymore.”

“I’m sorry, I just like to make sure all of my bases are covered. Have a good day!” she called to him as he walked out the door.

A few minutes later while deep in thought, Harleen jumped in her chair at the sound of someone rapping on the door. She jolted in her seat and looked up to see Winston, the lead guard.

“Oh, sorry to scare you there, Doc. Um, I just wanted to let you know that we got him set up in the interview room with the handcuffs instead of the jacket, as you requested,” he told her, pushing his hands into his pants pockets. “Are you sure about that? He was pretty feisty today. I mean, I’m gonna have the jacket and a taser on hand just in case.”

“That really won’t be necessary, Mr. Winston,” she answered, looking up from her desk, her large black framed glasses sliding slightly down her nose.

 _God, she’s so gorgeous,_ he thought. He hated the fact that she always called him _Mr. Winston_. He told her several times that she could call him by his first name Keith. _Always the professional,_ he reminded himself. “Okay, um, sounds good. I'm just concerned for your safety. You just let me know what you need and I’m your man, Dr. Q.” He liked hearing himself say that he was _her man_ , as if saying it out loud made it true.

Harleen gave him a sad smile, still unable to peel her mind away from her thoughts about Joker. “Thanks, Keith,” she said, tilting her head. His heart fluttered. “I’ll be down in about 10 minutes.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then!” Winston stated with exuberance, as if he had just accepted a request for a date. He turned slightly to leave before turning back to Harleen. “Hey, uh, Harleen,” he said, confident that he could use her first name instead of her official title, “You look real pretty today.” He smiled a toothless grin at her, his red hair shining under the fluorescent lights.

“Aw, thanks, that’s nice of you,” she said, accepting the compliment in the same way she would with a random stranger.

“Well, I’ll see you!” he said again, trying to fill his uncomfortable silence, as if he had expected her to say more. He had hoped that his compliment would open a conversation where he would give her more and more compliments. Maybe that would lead to her wanting to touch him and kiss him. He walked down the hallway to the interview room with a bounce in his step and a smile on his face, convinced that this was the start of something.

Harleen looked at her files again and then glanced back up to the doorway, verifying that Winston had gone. She knew that was his lame attempt at flirting with her. _Ugh,_ she thought. _No, thank you._ She had zero feelings for Winston. She thought he was a good guard—maybe a bit rough and quick to use violence on the patients—but he definitely had a mind to protect her, which is always good in an insane asylum.

She paged through her file, coming upon the Joker’s photo. She missed the Joker that she had gotten to know. He was full of life. He was always smiling, even if he were talking about killing someone, he was at least smiling about it. She thought about how his eyes didn’t respond right the other day. It bothered her. She thought of all the times that she had looked into his eyes. They were dark in solitary, but then they flashed with life during their sessions. They looked dull and lethargic during their last meeting.

She stared at the eyes in his photo. They stared into her soul just like they did the first time she looked at them. She could see the power behind them, and that power was sexy. She finally confessed to herself that she was falling for him. Sure, she had fantasies and she knew she was attracted to him, but she couldn’t help but feel the deep-seated lust she had tried to control under the guise of professionalism. The fact that he showed how vulnerable he was—that he was indeed a man—spoke to her need to help people and the satisfaction that she felt when she did help them. She was glad she was his doctor, his _Harley Quinn_ as he called her so often.

She looked at the couch opposite of her along the wall and imagined him sitting there. Naked. And ready. Getting up out of her chair, she straightened her blouse, knowing that she would only remove it momentarily. She looked down at her clothes. She _did_ look really pretty today, as Winston had told her. She wore a knee-length black skirt with black pumps and a bright blue knit top that hugged the curve of her breasts and waist. A few bangles rested on her wrists, which were matched to her necklace and earrings. She even had applied a little lipstick, which she normally only used a nude gloss. Today, she looked really good, _really hot even,_ she assured herself.

Her naughty daydream resumed with Joker’s ghost beckoning to come join him on the couch. She imagined standing in front of him with his hands desperately searching her body for buttons and zippers in order to remove her clothing, which he tosses on the floor. Joker grabs Harleen by the hips and spins her around so she is lying on her back on the couch, her knees bent. With a mischievous look on his face, he sits down on the couch near her feet, gently caressing legs from her ankles to her hips. Then, pulling her legs apart, he leans in and flattens his tongue, licking her swollen clitoris. _Mmm…_ she thought as she envisioned his tongue giving her the orgasm that her body so desperately desired from him.

As she imagined her body was done reeling from the rush of ecstasy between her legs, Joker leans into her, placing his throbbing cock just outside of her opening. Pushing in, they both moan and gasp in pleasure, turning each other on with their sounds in the process. She envisions his strength as he rocks over top of her, punctuating his kisses on her lips with some on her neck and ear. He exhales deeply in her ear with each pump inside of her, causing tingles to be sent throughout her body. _Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum, Harley… I’m gonna cum,_ she imagined him breathing into her ear. She loved thinking about his raw emotion while having sex, his intensity, his hair hanging in front of his face, his muscular arms and chest holding himself up, his tattoos, his incredible desire and need for Harleen to give him the ultimate pleasure...

“Oh, shit,” Harleen said, snapping from her trance as she looked at her clock, which was at 10:05. She didn’t mean to make him wait. She grabbed her lunch bag and files before she ran out the door, the clicking of her heels echoing down the long hall.

*****

She approached the interview room in a bit of a flustered state, having just gotten worked up about thinking of a naked Joker inside of her. “Hey, so sorry I’m late,” she apologized to the guards. “And thanks for the cuffs.”

Harleen walked into the room, completely forgetting her lab coat back at her desk. _Oh well,_ she thought, _I want him to see me. I want to give him a tantalizing taste of my body._ She walked to her seat, placing her lunch bag on the table. Joker’s eyes lazily lifted up to look at the bag and then at her. A flash of normalcy seemed to register in his eye as he stared at her.

“Nice colors, doll. You look hot,” he said, feeling uninhibited in his speech. He was dazed and confused and didn’t care what he said, which he never did anyway.

She ignored it, pretending to be professional but secretly craving more comments. She wanted to hear him say how much he wanted her. “I see that they put you in cuffs like I asked. I know the jacket can be really restrictive.”

He stared at her.

“You might be aware that today is Christmas Eve. Well, I swiped a dessert from the cafeteria for you. Pudding,” she said pulling out the pudding cup and placing it in front of him with a silver plastic spoon. “No one is allowed to have any special treatment,” she said, “but I wanted to give you this. Merry Christmas.”

Joker glanced at the pudding and looked up at her, a slight smile on his face. “Are you taking to calling me pet names, Doc?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, bewildered.

“Pudding. You called me _Pudding_. You said, ‘I swiped a dessert from the cafeteria for you, _Pudding_ ,’” he was quick to observe even in his weak state.

Harleen couldn’t help but smile and chuckle to herself. “Well, Pudding,” she playfully joked, “how are you feeling today?”

His head was bent down staring at the container of pudding in front of him. He brought his eyes up to meet hers while keeping his head mostly lowered. “What do you expect? I’m stuck in this god damn asylum,” he said, his speech somewhat slurred. His mouth twisted into an evil smile, flashing his silver-plated teeth. “Honestly, Doc, I am numb. I have no feelings. I don’t know how to feel. I float from day to day and I just... can’t think.” His dull eyes glazed over as he appeared to look through her.

His admission astounded her. “Joker, I’m so sorry. I don’t understand what is going. I’m sorry,” she repeated. She was glad that he was finally talking to her.

“Oh, you know exactly what’s going on. You sign off on the god damn dotted line,” he sneered at her. The events from the past two months since he had been seeing Harleen swirled in his head, his mind unable to distinguish reality from dream. “Might as well hit me with some of those drugs now. Maybe it will make me feel better. Or maybe they will fuck me up even more,” he said, uttering almost incoherently.

“I think I have to, but I want to get a blood sample first,” she stated. “I need to make sure that there isn’t something else going on… I just wish you would open up and tell me. We were getting along so well and now… now I can’t figure it out.”

“Huh,” Joker grunted, using his cuffed hands to open his pudding cup and taking a bite. “Mmm, this is real good, Doc. What did you spike it with?” he said while licking the spoon somewhat suggestively.

“I didn’t. It’s just probably due to the fact that you’ve been eating this bland prison food,” she responded, watching him lick his lips.

“You know,” he said, looking out the window, “I used to be a chemist. I could make designer drugs and substances. You name it. I sure could use some of those right now.” His voice seemed to have gained a bit of strength.

Harleen was in instantly shocked by his disclosure. “You used to be a... chemist?” she asked him incredulously, tilting her head.

“Oh yeah, got my degree just like you and everything,” he looked at her and then back to the window to the outside world where he watched the snow fall.

Harleen sat in disbelief. This was the very first time he had ever told her anything personal, beyond talking about the people he had killed, the cars he owned, the money he had, and his gripes about the asylum. She knew he was having symptoms of amnesia and confusion, but she also knew that she couldn’t let this opportunity disappear. She needed to probe him.

“So, where did you go to school?” she asked.

“It was… it was… Shit. I dunno. I remember I had an English professor, though. She looked a lot like you. Had long blonde hair and these great legs,” he said as he looked at her with a quizzical look on his face while continuing to eat his pudding. “I don’t get it, Harley. How could you be my professor? That’s fucked up.” In his mind, he clearly saw Harleen as his professor and he didn’t have the mental means to realize that it wasn’t her. But the thought was gone and he sat contentedly eating his pudding.

“I don’t know,” Harleen said tentatively. Not wanting him to stop offering up information, she continued her line of questioning. “What else did you do in college? Or was it grad school? Did you do anything for fun?”

“Ha!” Joker’s cackle pierced the air. “I almost got kicked out once for blowing up the chem lab. I was working on my dissertation and I set off a chain reaction.”

“Dissertation? So you have a PhD in Chemistry?” she asked, excited that he was talking so much.

“Oh, yeah. I hold a doctorate,” he said, his pink tongue widening as his licked his spoon like a little kid licking an ice cream cone. “So, you can call _me_ Doctor, Doc!”

“Well, I did not know that. Thank you for telling me, Doctor,” she said appeasing his request, not certain if he were being truthful—if he even had the mental ability to recognize fact from fiction. Wanting to dig into his family history further, she persisted, “So, did any of your brothers or sisters go to the same school?” Her own older brother had attended her university, which always made for interesting interactions on campus, especially when he would act as her overprotective bodyguard and chase away new boyfriends.

“Oh, no, Doc, I don’t have any siblings. They all died when I was real little,” he lamented, cleaning the last drop of pudding from his spoon.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” she responded quietly. “How did they die?”

“I was a kid. I don’t remember much, but... they all died in a car accident out on Long Island,” he said, staring at his reflection in the silver spoon. His mouth curved downward and his upper lip curled. He did not like what he saw. His face was foreign to him. Suddenly, old memories that had been repressed long ago came rushing back. His parents, his two brothers and one sister, the big, red brick house on Yardley Street, the old station wagon. No one wanted him. No one took him in after they died. He could only remember bits and pieces, not whole memories from his past, which seemed to disappear the moment they materialized in his mind.

Exposing all of his teeth, he growled in frustration and snapped his spoon in half. He had completely forgotten where he was and what he had been saying. He was pretty sure he had been talking. He looked up at the gorgeous blonde woman across the table from him, her red lips in perfect contrast to her bright blue blouse. He squinted his eyes at her and tilted his head to the right as if he were trying to determine who she was.

“Mr. Joker, are you okay?” she asked, concerned that something was wrong.

“Thanks for the pudding. Dark chocolate, my favorite…” he said, his voice sounding weak again and his eyelids growing heavy. He was having a hard time holding up his head to meet her gaze.

Harleen watched as he struggled to keep his head up and noticed a trickle of blood emerging from his nose. It flowed down to his upper lip as his eyes rolled back and his head fell forward, almost striking the table.

“Mr. Joker!” she exclaimed, running to his side. She grabbed him on both cheeks and leaned his head back to look into his inert eyes. “Joker!” she yelled again concerned that something was utterly wrong. “Guards!!” she screamed toward the doorway, running back to her side of the table, pressing the panic button.

The guards came bursting in expecting to find Dr. Quinzel being attacked by Joker. Their clubs and tasers were in-hand as they were more than happy to respond with violence.

“No!” she shouted. “Something’s wrong! I need to get him to the infirmary right away!” One of the guards responded by pulling out his walkie-talkie and calling for some orderlies with a gurney, who arrived within a few minutes.

*****

Harleen followed the orderlies to the infirmary where the Joker was assessed by Dr. Evans and his medical team. They spent quite some time performing scans and diagnostics and were able to rule out issues with the brain, heart, and lungs. “We aren’t sure what’s going on with him, Dr. Quinzel,” the head doctor told her. “It could be dehydration. It could be exhaustion. It could be drug abuse.”

“It’s not drug abuse, I assure you. I have stepped him down from most of his medications,” she avowed.

“Well… you never know around here,” he replied. “Nonetheless, we’re going to keep him here under observation probably until tomorrow or Sunday.”

“Please tell me if you need anything from me. Anything at all,” she implored. “Here’s my cell number.” She wrote it down on the whiteboard on the wall across from Joker’s bed. _914-777-8833, cell, Harleen Quinzel_. “Thank you,” she said, looking back at the Joker with pain in her eyes. He was attached to an IV and monitors that beeped showing her that he was in stable condition.

“You got it, Harleen,” he said to her, understanding her concern for her patient. No doctor wants to lose a patient after putting so much time in with them, even if it is someone as terrible as the Joker. “Here’s my number just in case you need it.” He handed her a post-it with a number written out in perfect handwriting, so unlike a doctor, she thought.

She began to leave and then stopped, thinking for a moment. “Henry,” she addressed Dr. Evans, turning to him, “Do you think that ECT could cause this kind of reaction? He did display mental confusion, poor pupillary response, and inexplicable rage during our recent meetings.”

“Hm…” Henry thought for a moment. “It is possible, but only if it’s prolonged subjection to the treatment. We’re talking daily treatment without anesthetics. And I don’t see how that’s a possibility here.”

“Okay,” Harleen acknowledged. “You’re right. It was just a thought. Thanks again, Henry. Make sure you call or text me if there are any changes. I don’t care what time of day it is.”

“Not a problem,” Henry responded. “Hey, have a good Christmas!”

“Thanks, you too!” she said, heading out the door. “I’m really looking forward to spending some time with my family!”

*****


	5. A Heartbreaking Discovery

Harleen arrived at her parents’ house in Brooklyn with a bag full of gifts early the next day as happy to see them as they were to see her.

“Why don’t you visit us more often?” her stepdad interrogated her. “You’re barely an hour away!”

“Hey, Bob! You know how it is... work, life, work...” she hugged him. “It’s so nice to see you. Where is everyone?”

“They’re all waiting around the tree ready to open presents! Get yourself in here!” he said with a happy smile on his face. Harleen was so glad to spend one day away from Arkham and really just focus on her family. She liked her job, she had a set schedule, and she didn’t have to work weekends, but—even when trying to focus on personal stuff at home like painting, exercising, listening to music, watching TV, going on dates—she found herself invariably drawn back to her work. She tried hard to keep it separated, but thoughts about her patients constantly infiltrated her mind.

“Merry Christmas, everyone!” Harleen announced to her family as she walked into the room. She was so happy to see her mom, her stepdad, and her brother and his family.

She spent the rest of the day playing with her two nieces, talking with her brother about his job in the big city, and listening to her parents talk about retiring early and traveling the country. Her stepdad worked as a financial advisor and her mom was an interior designer, having started her own business over a decade ago.

After dinner, they got out the old photo albums and Harleen looked through them with her mom. Sitting on the couch, they reminisced over memories of her dad before his mental health took a dive. They didn’t talk about it very often as Harleen was only 15 when her dad committed suicide, but she could hear the pain in her mom’s voice when they spoke about him.

“Ha! Back when I had long hair like yours,” her mom said, referring to a photo from almost 20 years ago. “Gosh, I was about 40 then. Those were good times. I miss being a teacher,” she lamented. Her mom was a long-time art teacher at the local elementary school before she was forced to take an early retirement due to funding cuts.

“At least you’re still getting to do something you like, right?” Harleen asked, referring to her interior design work.

“You bet. I do like what I do,” her mom said, turning the page. “I’m lucky that I met Bob. You know how much he supported me in getting my business off the ground.”

Harleen smiled. Her mom always had such a good eye for art and design and she liked to think that she inherited the art gene from her.

“I would have loved to have been able to do some more adjunct work at the university, too. You know, if you ever get the chance, Har, you should look into that. That could be pretty lucrative,” her mom said, looking up at her. “I know you’re so busy at Arkham, though. I just don’t want you to be drawn too far into that world,” she said, thinking of her late husband.

“Oh, I’m not,” Harleen reassured her, which she knew was a lie. Her mind flashed to Joker’s almost lifeless body in the infirmary. She felt bad that he didn’t have any family to spend Christmas with and she felt that she should be there with him—in a therapeutic capacity, of course. Harleen paused for a moment, thinking about her mother’s work at Moraine University on Long Island. “Mom, refresh my memory, what did you teach at the university?”

“Hm, well, I did a bunch of stuff,” her mom pondered. “I taught the entry-level art courses, you know, ceramics, sculpture, painting, drawing… They also had me teach a class about writing for the arts, even though I didn’t have a ton of experience in writing. I learned a lot from that course myself.”

“I’d love to do something like that,” Harleen admitted. “I mean, I would love to incorporate arts into my field. Maybe something like arts for mental health. I could teach that!”

“I love the idea,” her mom smiled. “I know you’re upstate now, but there are plenty of universities and colleges near you that might be looking for someone just like you!” She gave her daughter a tight squeeze around her shoulders. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?” she told Harleen.

They spent the rest of the evening playing games and talking. It was past midnight when she finally left, almost opting to spend the night. But she was potentially on-call, she told her parents, and she wanted to be close to Arkham just in case. They exchanged their goodbyes and lots of hugs, and Harleen got in her car and headed back north.

*****

 _Patient remains stable, I’ll text u tomorrow with an update,_ one of the nurses had texted Harleen while she was at her parents’ house. She felt guilty that they had to work Christmas Day, but she was thankful for the update and for their dedication.

Harleen ended up sleeping in several hours past her normal wake time and it was mid-morning by the time she finally rolled out of bed. She decided go for a run and return to eat a light brunch. She took a long, hot shower and thought about how she was actually happy where she lived. She didn’t want to live on Long Island where her parents and brother had their homes. She had a really beautiful apartment in a gorgeous area with views of the river and a jog trail nearby. She could walk to the center of town if she wanted to. She was close to several parks and green spaces where she could just get out an enjoy nature—something that she didn’t see much of in Brooklyn.

She had made plans with her girlfriend Vanessa to meet for lunch at a café in her small town. She told Vanessa _everything_ when it came to guys and Vanessa always countered, telling her that she was so picky—that her standards were unbelievably high.

“He should be well-educated is all I’m saying,” she defended herself to Vanessa with a smile on her face.

“Hahaha, right,” Vanessa chortled, “And have a hot bod, a big package, a refined palate, a respect for the arts, and money out the wazoo!”

“Exactly!” Harleen exclaimed with both girls filling the café with their laughter. They were quite a fashionable pair with Harleen wearing dark blue jeans, high-heeled boots, a pretty light gray knit sweater—a gift from her mother—and a green scarf. Not having enough time to straighten it, she left her long hair down, which formed beautiful waves in its natural state. There was no doubt that Harleen was a beautiful woman and could have her choice of virtually any man.

“So, is there anyone new?” Vanessa queried. She couldn’t believe that her best friend wasn’t taken by now. She had it all—brains _and_ body.

“No, not yet. I’m still taking a big break since Dex,” she replied, referring to her last boyfriend. “That was... a disaster. I just need time to figure out things for myself.”

“Okay, hun, but that was, what, almost two years ago,” Vanessa reminded her. “Don’t wait too long or you’ll lose out on a lot of fun!”

“I know, I know! I’ll get to it!” Harleen promised. She didn’t dare speak a word about her growing affection for Joker. She would become an immediate pariah and she was sure her friends and family would insist that _she_ be placed in an asylum. “I’ve actually been thinking about applying for some teaching jobs at a college or university. I think it would be a good break from the lunacy I experience every day at Arkham.”

“I like that idea. Maybe you’ll have some hot guys in your classes. You can wear your short skirts and flip your hair. You would be Miss Sexy Professor!” Vanessa erupted into giggles.

“Hey, I like that idea! I’m going to make it happen!” Harleen responded, thinking about the actual possibility of teaching. She might sit on a desk in front of the room with her long legs crossed and her blonde hair down… just like following in her mom’s footsteps.

Harleen stopped, her coffee cup poised at her lips, her mind frozen in thought. _Oh, my God,_ she thought. _Oh, my God!!!_ She was making connections in her head. Joker lived on Long Island at one point. He went to a university. He took an English class. Her mom taught English. He thought she was his professor. _What if my mom was his professor?? What if I can figure out who he is??_ The sudden realization sent tingles throughout her entire body.

“Hey Van, I gotta head back. My patient is about to be released from the infirmary today and I need to make sure everything is good with him,” she told her, trying to contain the excitement in her voice. “We’ll definitely have to do this again. I miss you!”

“Hey, no problem!” Vanessa smiled. “Duty calls! But don’t work too hard. I think I’ll hang around and do some post-holiday shopping, so text me if you’re still around later.” The friends hugged and parted ways with Harleen nearly sprinting to her car after she left the door.

*****

Harleen shuddered as the cold wind cut through her on her way up the library steps. She decided to head to the library instead of back home because she knew that she might have an easier time researching old news articles or looking through the stacks for information, even though most things were digitized by now. The library also held subscriptions to so many services that she couldn’t access at home, and she was hopeful that she could find something. Energized by her realization, she barely remembered driving and parking, being so lost in her own thoughts. She knew this was a long shot, but she couldn’t contain her excitement.

Arriving at the reference section, she took a seat a computer and logged in. _Where do I start?_ She stared at the screen and began researching Moraine University’s Chemistry program. She knew Joker’s rap sheet didn’t begin until 10 years ago—2006—and her mom taught at the school from 1998 to 2008. Assuming that he was not an enrolled student while also committing crimes, she figured that she would look at 1998 to 2006 as her year range. _This is doable,_ she thought.

She searched for anything relating to chemistry lab explosion at the university, but had no luck. She searched for all Chemistry PhDs granted during those years, but there were so many—hundreds—that she couldn’t really pare it down easily. And, even then, the university hadn’t always published names of graduates online. She realized that this was the early 2000s and, though they certainly used the internet, the university didn’t keep all of its data online as they do now. She just wished she could have seen a roster of names from her mom’s class. _I wonder if she kept that?_ She sighed. _Probably not._ Her mom was a clean freak and she only kept what was relevant. Plus, she would ask why Harleen wanted such a specific thing. _Oh, I’m just doing research into the real identity of a patient,_ she would tell her mom. _Oh yeah? What patient?_ She would ask, not realizing that her daughter couldn’t reveal her patient’s identity anyway. _The Joker, mom._ Harleen imagined telling her. _And, by the way, I think I’m falling in love with him._

“Ugh,” Harleen grumbled out loud, rubbing her temples.

Her phone vibrated on the desk and the time flashed 3:15 p.m. It was a text from Arkham again. _It’s Henry, patient awake, stabilized. No add’l problems. Sending him back to cell._ Harleen sent a quick thank you text back to him. She really did appreciate them keeping her in the loop.

She was so anxious to find answers but kept hitting brick walls. She was about to start cross-referencing the list of Chemistry graduates on social media websites in order to rule them out when a thought struck her. _He said he caused a lab explosion. Maybe… maybe they wrote about the lab explosion in the student paper._ Her heartbeat quickened. She asked the reference librarian where she might be able to find old college papers.

“Some are just posted online on the college’s website, but the older ones are digitized. They started to post content online around 2001 or so,” the librarian told her with a British lilt to her words as she looked up from her computer. “I’ll show you the service we subscribe to so you can search any college paper. We also have a service for regular newspapers, too, if you need it,” she said, walking from behind the counter and following Harleen to her computer. She pulled up the search form and explained that she can search by date and keyword, but that the early digitized papers might only be searchable by date and maybe by keywords that were tagged, but not by content.

“That’s no problem, at least it gets me in the right direction,” Harleen told her and thanked her for her help. She searched the Moraine Student Mirror for variations on chemistry laboratory explosion with no luck. _Maybe he was lying or maybe he was confused,_ Harleen wondered. _No, it was such a rare moment of conversation and disclosure. It was too raw to be fake,_ she concluded. _Maybe it wasn’t even at Moraine University... maybe I’m on a wild goose chase..._

She pondered searching the city papers, but thought that would be a daunting task and that the story would be lost in pages and pages of text. She decided to stick with her investigation of the student paper, looking at each weekly digitized newspaper starting in 1998. There were several missing chronologically, which worried her. She spent hours looking at the content headings for every paper... 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001… _Apparently, Moraine U wasn’t on the ball with posting their student news online,_ she thought, as she realized that papers had been digitized up until 2005.

Clicking on the link for 2002, she began to continue her monotonous search when her heart nearly stopped. The headline from the paper dated Friday, February 22, 2002, burned its text into her eyes: _Kennedy Hall Rocked by Chemical Explosion._ “Oh, my god,” she said aloud, garnering the attention of the librarian. Her hands shaking, she scrolled down the page to read the article.

 

> _On Thursday, February 21, campus police with the assistance of local police and fire departments were called to the scene at Kennedy Hall where a chemistry experiment had gone wrong. Dr. Clarence Hodge, chair of the Chemistry Department, stated that no students or staff were injured during the explosion. The damages were extensive, ranging from rooms 214 to 218, causing structural instability to the east wing of the building. Currently, students are barred from the east wing and all classes will be rescheduled to different rooms. Dr. Hodge reports that, “[T]he explosion was the result of a chemistry experiment gone awry… One of our best students, Jack Napier, was conducting experiments for his PhD research. This was not intentional; just an unfortunate accident. In fact, he might even be able to incorporate it into his research.” Dr. Hodge and the campus police report that the university will not press charges against Napier. No students were in the rooms when the explosion occurred. For any concerns or questions about the building and the rescheduling of rooms, please email the student news desk._

Harleen could not believe her eyes. _Jack Napier._ The name sent chills through her whole body. _Jack Napier. Is that his name? The Joker’s name?_ She couldn’t believe that she could be the only person to know the Joker’s real name. She wasn’t even sure if _he_ knew his own name.

Her hands were trembling and she realized that she was starving. It was already past 6:00. But she decided that she couldn’t leave. She had to continue digging and finding more information on Jack Napier. She searched his name and found that he indeed received a PhD in Chemistry in 2003. _Synthesis of Pyrrolizidine-Phosphinooxazoline Reactions Through Organometallic Processes_ was the title of his dissertation. _Holy shit, this guy must be fucking brilliant,_ Harleen thought. _Wow._ She did some further research into his topic and found that he had focused on organic chemistry and what seemed to be potentially creating new compounds from plants and metals that could be used as very promising pharmaceuticals.

She continued her search and found that he had established a business with a partner, Nicholas Hughes, in the city’s west side— _ACE Chemicals_ , the business was named. She pressed on further and further with her search finally being led to a newspaper from April 2005 that contained Napier’s name. She scrolled through and found it buried in one of the final sections of the paper.

She found his name in the obituaries.

“ _Oh, my God_ ,” Harleen swallowed hard. She closed her eyes to hold back her tears, but the pressure built up, stinging her nose and making it difficult to breathe. _Jack W. Napier_ , the obituary title read… It was accompanied by a photo of a _very_ handsome man. He had the same piercing eyes as the Joker and she knew without a doubt that it was him. He was gorgeous. He looked like a movie star. It was a black and white photo, but she could tell that his hair was dark brown and his eyes were bright blue. His hair was short but messy and he had a very slight beard. He was wearing a shirt and tie and looked so incredibly handsome, like he was a young college professor. His eyes were soft and kind, not sullen and gray like she had been so used to seeing. He was smiling a huge, lovely smile, as if he were on top of the world. It must have been a photo for the Chemistry Department or maybe a photo for his business. After staring at the photo for ages, memorizing every single detail, she finally read the obituary.

 

> _Jack W. Napier, age 28, of Gotham, formerly of Long Island, passed on April 15, 2005. Napier was an alumnus of Moraine University where he received his MS and PhD degrees in Chemistry. He worked with his business partner to establish ACE Chemicals where he focused on creating innovative drugs for pharmaceutical companies. Napier was preceded in death by his parents and three siblings as well as his maternal and paternal grandparents. He was also preceded in death by his fiancée Jessica and their unborn child. He is survived by many friends including business partner Nicholas Hughes. Services will not be held. In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions can be made to the Long Island Humane Society._

_Unborn child…_ Harleen could not hold back her tears as a flood of emotion moved through her body. _He lost everything he ever had in his life. His parents, his siblings, his fiancée, their unborn child…_ Tears streamed down her face. _It makes so much sense now,_ she realized. _He has nothing to lose. It’s no wonder why he was driven insane._

She searched more information about ACE Chemicals and found a blurb about how Nicholas Hughes had been indicted for asset misappropriation and tax fraud, resulting in his ultimate conviction and imprisonment in 2009. She found an article from a newspaper in April 2005 about ACE Chemicals titled _Man dies after industrial accident at ACE Chemicals._

 

> _A man has died following a late-night accident at ACE Chemicals, according to police. The man was reported to have fallen from a catwalk into an open basin of chemicals, used to create pharmaceutical drugs. Police and other rescue personnel were not able to obtain the body of the individual as it is believed to have been dissolved. ACE declined to release more details at this time. OSHA officials say they were told the man lost his balance and fell into the basin. The victim’s name is being withheld at this time. The investigation is continuing._

Tears continued to roll down Harleen’s face as she was now openly weeping in the quiet library. _He survived the chemical bath somehow. That’s why he’s so fucked up! I can’t believe…_ Her thoughts trailed off as she imagined his pale skin, his green hair, his teeth, his lack of facial hair. _It must have changed him in some way on the genetic level_ , she speculated, resting her forehead in her hand and staring at her keyboard.

It was all making sense to her now. He died and no service was held. No one knew he survived. He reappeared on the scene in 2006. _He probably had something to do with his partner’s death,_ she surmised. _Maybe that’s how he started his empire, from appropriating liquid assets from his old company and setting up his partner for the fall… Maybe it was revenge of some sort..._

She tried to search for information about his fiancée, but just couldn’t find anything about her. Her heart cried out to him, knowing all of the pain he had gone through but never revealed to her in their sessions. _His heart must be broken,_ she thought, feeling her own heart break for him.

She stood up, still sobbing and wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. _I have to go see him right away,_ she thought to herself, looking at her watch. _Almost 8:00._ She gathered her things when the librarian approached her.

“Are you okay, dear?” she asked with a look of concern on her face, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

“I… uh… I’m okay,” Harleen stuttered, wiping tears from her eyes. “Thank you so much for your help.”

“You’re very welcome,” she responded. “I hope you were able to find what you were looking for.”

“I did, I really did...” Harleen said tearfully. She thanked her again and then quickly left the library with one destination in her mind, her feet not being able to carry her fast enough. All she wanted was to see the Joker— _Jack_ —in his cell and… and… She couldn’t think of what she would even say or how to say it. She cried as she drove as fast as she could across the long bridge to Arkham just 20 minutes away, most certainly breaking a few traffic laws on the way.

*****


	6. A Manipulated Promise

Harleen arrived at Arkham just after 8:00 and ran inside.

“Dr. Quinzel, what are you doing here so late? And on a Sunday?” the guard at the security desk asked her, getting up from his desk behind a thick pane of glass.

“I gotta get through. I need to talk to someone right away,” she said anxiously, her eyes red from crying. “Can you let me in?”

“No problem, Dr. Q,” he said, complying with her request right away. She threw her bag into the X-Ray scanner allowing the guard to verify that she didn’t have any restricted items in it. The body scanner beeped as she walked through, but he had never seen her in such a state and he never thought it felt right to wand her anyway. “Here you go,” he said, handing her the bag and allowing her through the gate.

“Thank you!” Harleen yelled as she ran down the hallway to the stairwell and up to the second floor, her boots making heavy thuds on the steps. She raced as fast as she could to Joker’s cell and was out of breath by the time she got to the hallway in the residential unit.

“Good evening, Dr. Quinzel,” the guard said, “What brings you here this evening?”

Her hands shaking with worry, she used her ID card to open the gate and bolt past him, ignoring his question and finding Joker’s cell. _Cell 16, Cell 16…_ She finally reached the cell and lifted up the small, metal window on the door, looking inside. _He’s not here?_ She moved to the left side of the door where the mailbox opening was located. She opened it and looked around, thinking that maybe he was on the floor closer to the door.

“Where is he?” Harleen called to the guard in a pain-stricken tone.

“Oh, uh, you mean the Joker?” the guard asked, unable to make eye contact. “I’m not sure. I just started my shift…”

“Where the _fuck_ is he?” Harleen roared with anger in her eyes as she approached him. “Tell me right _fucking_ now or I will have your _fucking_ job!!” She screamed her words directly in the guard’s face, pointing her finger in the middle of his chest.

He swallowed hard and took a trembling breath. “They, uh, they took him down to the sub-basement, ma’am,” he said nervously. He was so terrified that he could not look her in the eyes.

Harleen took off for the stairwell and practically flew down the three flights of steps. She entered the completely dark hallway and was petrified by the silence. Then she heard it. People were talking. _Laughing?_ She followed the sound to the left and then turned right down the wing. She quietly came upon two swinging doors that she pushed inward so she could listen.

“Stand back, boys, I’m gonna get him again real good,” she heard the familiar voice say with excitement. “You know, _Joker_ , Dr. Quinzel is just fucking with you _._ She only wanted you to get better so we could fuck you up some more. You think she likes you. Well, _she likes_ _me._ Don’t you _ever_ forget that.” He held the paddles to his brain and shocked him, causing the Joker to convulse while the guards screamed out in a cacophony of laughter.

Harleen burst through the doors in a fury. “ _What the FUCK do you think you are doing?!?_ ” she screamed at the men. “ _Get the fuck away from him RIGHT NOW!!!_ ” Her voice was full of strength and anger, completely stunning the guards.

“Oh, Dr. Q, we were just—”

“I don’t give a _fucking shit_ what you ‘ _were just_.’ This is MY patient and I did NOT authorize this. Step the _fuck_ back.” She was incensed. She was enraged. How could this happen on her watch? It explained so much about recent events.

The men stood looking at her, shocked into silence. Winston dropped the paddles and stepped out of the way as she pushed past them to reach Joker.

“ _LEAVE US_!” she snarled, her voice filling the old, dusty room.

She reached for Joker’s face as the men slunk out of the room. “Oh, my God, _Jack_ , I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t stop telling him how sorry she was, tears streaming down her face again. She put her face on his chest—his body once again strapped in the straitjacket—and listened for his heartbeat. It was faint, but it was there. She breathed a slight sigh of relief. She held the back of his head up with her hand and caressed the side of his face as his eyes tried to open.

“Hey, Doc,” he said, attempting to show his metallic smile while his eyes opened in small slivers. “Nice of you to make... an appearance.” His voice was quiet and raspy.

“Shhh, shhh… Don’t try to talk, Jack,” she said, using his real name again. “I’m here to help you. You’re safe with me now.”

As if he realized that he could finally relax, his eyes closed and the muscles in his body began to loosen. He let out a soft exhale.

She needed to get him out of there immediately and up to his cell. She ran to the hallway looking for the old red phones used to make emergency calls to the medical staff. She found one far down the hall and picked it up only to be confronted with static. “Hello? Can you hear me? This is Dr. Quinzel!”

“I’m having a… time… you… where…” the voice crackled on the other line.

“I’m in the sub-basement. Send two orderlies right away! Send Dr. Evans! Send the on-call doctor! Sub-basement!” she yelled into the phone as loudly as she could.

“Okay… orderlies… on-call doctor right now…” the voice said breaking up. Harleen hoped that her request worked. She could have moved the Joker on her own, but she wanted other people to see with their own eyes that this had happened.

Just a few minutes later, she heard a disturbance in the stairwell and several sets of steps rushing down.

“He’s in here! Follow me!” Harleen shouted as two orderlies and Dr. Evans emerged into the dark hallway with flashlights.

Leading them back to the room, she explained that she found the guards torturing Joker with the electroshock machine. “I suspected this, but I didn’t know, I swear! It was the god damn guards. I _knew_ they were up to something. I think Edwards is in on it, too,” she looked at Dr. Evans, tears welling in her eyes. She hated not being in control of her emotions in front of her co-workers, especially when _she_ was supposed to be a professional psychologist.

Dr. Evans sighed heavily, “This could undo some of the headway we made in the past two days, but at least he is probably still feeling the effects of the muscle relaxants. All right, let’s get him back upstairs. Do you want me to admit him again?” He turned to Harleen.

“No, let’s get him in his cell. I want him out of his jacket. No shackles either. He’ll need a few extra blankets. And an extra pillow, too,” she requested.

Dr. Evans used his stethoscope to listen to his heart. “It’s not real strong, Harleen. Are you sure you don’t want to admit him?”

“No, Henry,” she responded. “I think he would be more comfortable in his cell since it is familiar. But can you have someone grab an AED and get me some epinephrine just in case?” Harleen was intent on keeping him in his cell because she wanted to be alone with him.

“Sure, we can do that,” Henry responded bobbing his head up and down, his big mustache covering the concern in his lips. “Let’s get him out of here,” he said to the orderlies, directing them to take the Joker up to his cell.

*****

Upstairs in Cell 16, the orderlies removed Joker’s shackles and jacket before placing him gently on his bed with two pillows beneath his head under Harleen’s watchful eye. Harleen helped spread out the blankets on top of him. The muscle relaxants given to him earlier in the day when he was in the infirmary had clearly had an effect on him and may have helped mitigate damage done by the electroshock machine as Dr. Evans had suggested.

“Do you need us to stick around, Dr. Q?” one of the orderlies asked.

“No, I’m good. I’m going to sit here with him for a bit,” she said, pulling the chair over to his bedside. “Can you make sure that I get the AED and the epinephrine?” she asked, tilting her head to peer out the door for Dr. Evans.

“Sure thing,” the orderly said. Just two minutes later, he returned with the requested items and put them on the desk. “Here you go, just let me know if you need anything at all, Dr. Q,” he said, knowing that she was worried about her patient.

“Thanks so much for your help tonight,” she said, her eyes full of sorrow.

The orderlies left the room, pulling the heavy door shut but not locking it, and Harleen pulled her chair closer to Joker’s bedside. She could see that he was just a man in pain. He was so vulnerable. Tears began to sting her red eyes yet again as she imagined all of the hurt he had been through. She ran her fingers through his long, green locks wishing there was a way she could take away his anguish.

“I’m so sorry, Jack. I swear I didn’t know,” she stated softly in his ear, still stroking his hair. “I’m so sorry.”

His eyes fluttered open slightly. “What did you say?” he asked in a voice that was almost inaudible.

“I said I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Harleen repeated herself.

“What did you call me?” he asked, his voice becoming a little stronger.

Harleen took a deep breath and rubbed her hand on his chest and then up to his neck, knowing that she was about the open a floodgate. “ _Jack_ , I know. You all but told me in our last session,” she said, stretching the truth a tad. “I know what happened and… and… my heart is breaking for you.” Her fingers traced the tattoo of the letter _J_ on his left cheek before leaning in to kiss it lightly. She continued to run her fingers through his long, green hair.

He turned to look at her and she sat back slightly in her chair. “You look nice,” he said, looking at her outfit. “I’ve never seen you in jeans. You look nice. But you’ve been crying. Don’t cry for me,” he paused. “Do not.” He exhaled and gave her a harsh, reproving look. He was not upset that she dug into his past as much as he was upset that she felt pity for him. “I’m not that person anymore.”

“Don’t ask that of me. You know that’s not who I am. I feel emotion. I feel enough for the both of us,” she admitted to him as if they were somehow inextricably attached to each other. “I’m sorry for everything that has happened to you. You didn’t deserve it. I want to help you.”

“You want to help me?” he asked with a sarcastic mixture of hope and pessimism in his voice.

“Y-yes, anything,” she replied.

“Get me a machine gun,” he said instantly without an ounce of humor. He was dead serious.

“Uh… a machine gun?” Harleen asked. “Where am I supposed to find one of those? I don’t even know how to get one.”

“Listen, doll, my men will hook you up,” he said, his voice growing in strength. He looked directly at her. “I need you to go to my club. It’s called Club Aura in Union Point,” he explained, referring to a seedy, crime-ridden industrial area in the Bronx at the north end of the city. “Ask for Frost. Tell him the boss sent you. Tell him…” he paused, his eyes looking toward the ceiling and then back to her. “Tell him I’m _sorry_ about Bruno. He’ll believe you.” Joker inhaled deeply and looked away. Clearly there was something that happened between him, Frost, and Bruno that warranted a belated apology. “Bring it to me as soon as you can. I need outta this joint, Doc.”

“O-Okay, Club… Club Aura, Union, um, Point, ask for, uh, Frost, and y-you’re sorry about, um Bruno,” she stumbled through her words, her anxiety levels rising. _How am I going to do this?_ She wondered if she had the confidence to go through with it. _This is my career. What if they find out? What if I’m barred from practicing ever again?_ A million worries flashed through her brain.

Joker, sensing her apprehension, turned toward her and lifted his right hand to her face, gently wiping a tear away with his thumb. Harleen could barely believe the level of compassion he was exhibiting. She looked into his eyes and could see the man in the photo from so many years ago. She could see that the eyes were still the same. Everything else had changed, but the eyes didn’t. They were somber yet seemed to plead with her to help him. And she would do anything to help this man. She wanted so much to hold him against her body and tell him that everything was going to be all right.

“You can do this for me, Harley, okay?” he said in a gentle and convincing tone. “You will bring the gun to me.” He was confident in her ability to carry out his plan. He _needed_ her to fulfill this promise.

“I-I will. I promise,” she said, pausing to think. “I’ll get it tonight and I’ll bring it back early in the morning so I don’t draw any suspicion. I’ll drop it off in the slot with enough time before the guards come by to wake you. That’s between six-thirty and seven o’clock, right?” Joker nodded. She thought for a moment while touching his shoulder. “You are not going to have your strength… Look, I’m going to leave the syringe here for you in the morning. I don’t know what you plan to do and when you plan to do it, but if you need the shot of adrenaline, all you need to do is hold the end of it on your thigh and push the button,” she said, reaching for the syringe, which looked like an allergy pen. She held it up and showed him how it worked. “This has about three times the amount of epinephrine than would typically be administered, so only take it if you absolutely need it. And only inject it in your thigh. You’re going to feel jittery and your blood pressure will rise,” she took a deep breath. “Hopefully it doesn’t have any adverse effects…” She looked at the pale, green-haired man lying on the bed, his tattooed hands folded across his chest. “Depending on your plan, you probably won’t get breakfast, and you’re going to need your energy. I have some extra food that I brought in just in case I ever forgot my lunch. I’ll bring it over to you in five minutes…” She took another deep breath and shook her head nervously as if she couldn’t believe her role in this turn of events. She gathered her bag and the defibrillator and turned to leave.

“Hey, Doc,” Joker called from his bed. Harleen stood staring at the door latch with her back to him. She turned to look at him as a devious smile crossed his lips, just as she often saw during their sessions. “Your ass looks great in those jeans.”

Harleen rolled her eyes at him but secretly smiled to herself as she turned to face the door. “I’ll be right back,” she responded, knowing that his crass comment was the closest thing she would get to a thank you. She left, locking the door behind her.

She ran to the lunchroom and found her yogurt, granola bar, and orange she had put there on Friday. She proceeded to run back to his cell, gaining access through the checkpoint and passing the guard as she told him that she was just dropping off some food. The guard, still feeling meek about his role in the events tonight, sat quietly at his station at the end of the hallway.

 _Hopefully I can get a machine gun in there,_ she thought as she examined the mailbox in his wall. _Hopefully this will not be a disaster..._.

*****

It was almost 10:00 when she finally reached Joker’s Club Aura. It was a sort of scary part of town—not necessarily the place where you would find a nightclub. _But, then again,_ she thought, _the people who go to his club are probably pretty scary themselves._ She looked in the mirror and realized that she did not look her best. Grabbing her compact out of her bag, she powdered her face and wiped away the eye make-up that had traveled with her tears. She updated her lipstick in a pretty rose tone, providing a perfect frame for her brilliant white smile.

She approached the club and saw a large black man at the entrance. “Um, hi,” she announced, “I’m here to see Frost.” The man’s stern facial features did not budge. It was almost enough to make Harleen turn around and run the other way. He looked her up and down, admiring the curves of her body.

“Stay here,” he demanded, his deep voice resonating in the cold, dark night. He went inside for several minutes and returned with two more employees who came out to see Harleen.

“What’s your business with Frost?” the short, olive-skinned man with dark hair and a gold grill sneered at her.

“I’m, uh, I was sent here by the Joker,” Harleen said in a quiet, trembling voice. “I was told to talk to Frost.”

“Joker sent you? Bitch, you know where Joker is? He’s locked up. Now get the _fuck_ off my front porch,” he said as he opened the left side of his jacket, revealing a gun tucked into his pants. “Go on, get the fuck outta here!!”

Harleen’s face drained of its color as she began to take tentative steps backward. “Y-yes, sir. I-I’m sorry…”

Suddenly the door swung open and a large man with a pink face stepped out into the cold air. “Zig, hey Zig, it’s okay. I’ll take care of this,” he said, putting his huge paw on Ziggy’s shoulder. “Come on in, miss. That’s just Ziggy,” he explained, leading her into the loud, smoke-filled club. “He gets a little overprotective sometimes.” He chuckled as he led her around the bar and into the back room.

“I’m Frost,” he said as he sat down in his chair behind his desk while motioning to her to have a seat. “What can I do for you, Miss…?”

“Oh, uh, D… er, Miss Quinzel,” Harleen tripped on her words, not wanting to reveal that she was a doctor, just in case. Her eyes adjusted to the dark light in the room furnished with dark cherry furniture and black leather with gold embellishments. It was very fancy, just the way she imagined Joker’s taste to be. “I have a request from the Joker. He sent me here to ask you for… for a machine gun.”

Frost sat forward in his chair, intrigued at the request. “A machine gun?” he laughed out loud. “That sure sounds like J. But how the fuck do I know if I can believe you, hm?” He asked while looking over her shoulder and nodding his head. A man that she did not know had been standing there the whole time placed the end of his gun against her skull.

Harleen’s body tensed at the pressure of something metallic and cold pressing against her head. She knew it was a gun and her heart rate shot through the roof, causing her hands to shake. She squeezed her eyes closed and held her breath not knowing if it would be her last.

“Come on, babe,” Frost said looking her up and down, “There’s nothin’ to worry about here. It’s just a pretty odd request, you know?”

“H-h-he t-t-told me to tell y-you that he is sorry about Bruno,” Harleen said with her eyes closed, her voice fraught with anxiety.

“J said that, huh?” Frost asked. Harleen shook her head yes. Frost rubbed his hand across his mouth, deep in thought, and then picked up his glass of liquor and swirled it around. Exhaling heavily, he removed his hand from his face and nodded his chin upward at the man beside her. The man removed his gun from Harleen’s head, to her great relief.

“Okay,” Frost said, getting up from his chair and turning to face the wall behind his desk. He opened a secret panel revealing a plethora of weapons and ammunition. Grabbing an intricate-looking gun, he pulled it from its hook and turned to place it on his desk along with some extra clips. “So, what’s the plan, then?”

“I-I’m not sure. I’m supposed to sneak the gun into the asylum for him tomorrow morning at six. I know the guards come to wake him between six-thirty and seven. After that, I don’t know what his plans are,” Harleen stated attempting to get her voice back.

“Ha, I think that’s a no-brainer,” Frost laughed to himself. “All right, _Miss Quinzel,_ I’m going to give this to you to take in. I sure hope that it makes it to him. I would hate for one of our special assets to go missing,” he said, giving her a suspicious look. He looked at the clip in the gun, verifying it was full of ammo and walked the gun and extra clips over to her, placing them in her hands. “Here’s the safety,” he said, pointing to a small button on the side of the gun. “Make sure it stays off, unless you plan to use it.” He clicked it so it was in the off position. “These are extra clips. Make sure they stay with the gun.”

“Okay, um, thank you, Mr. Frost... I better get back,” Harleen said with uneasiness in her voice.

“You don’t wanna stick around for a few drinks, hm? I think there’s a pole out there that you would look great dancing on…” Frost offered, sitting on the edge of his desk. Harleen shook her head mouthing the word _no_ and looking toward the door. “It’s okay, I understand. Maybe some other time.” He said nodding his head to give her approval to leave.

Taking the gun, which was not as large as she had expected it to be at maybe a foot long, Harleen slipped it into her bag along with the clips and carefully placed it on her shoulder. She left the club and darted to her car, afraid to look back.

*****

After Harleen departed, Frost called about two dozen of his men into the office. “ _Gentlemen_ ,” he announced. “It sounds like we have our opportunity to break out J and set things right.” He explained that the blonde woman had planned to give Joker a machine gun at 6:00 in the morning and that he would probably start shooting up the place between 6:30 and 7:00. “We need to be ready. I’m not sure if I trust this woman, so I had Miles and Fritz follow her.”

“I don’t trust the fucking cunt!” Ziggy yelled to the group sounding annoyed. “I got a bad feeling about this, Boss.”

“Hey, save the ‘Boss’ for J when he gets back. God knows we could use a bit of guidance from him around here. I think I’ve been putting on some stress weight,” he said, looking down and patting his round belly in with a vexed look on his face. He poured some whiskey into his glass and gulped it down almost all at once. “And, like I said, Zig, I don’t know if I trust blondie either, but she’s our only option at the moment. We have no other choice since nothing else has worked so far.”

Ziggy rolled his eyes and sat down on the arm of the couch. Frost knew Ziggy was a hothead and figured he would leave him be.

“I think our best option is the front entrance…” Frost began as he detailed his plan of attack. He would have someone show up at the gate, restrain the guard, enter the prison, and set off as many bombs as needed to create havoc at the entrance, giving Joker the opportunity to move a little more easily through the building due to the diversion. They would have several different getaway vehicles ready behind the building. With Joker working from the inside out, it would make it easier for him to avoid being in a lockdown situation, and Frost trusted that his boss would have no problem getting free now that he had the right equipment. All Frost needed to do now was to make a few phone calls to his payrolled police officers to ensure that their response time was slow. Frost had never wanted to be the head of the organization and he was excited at the thought of things getting back to normal.

*****

Harleen drove very carefully back to her apartment, remaining hyper vigilant of all traffic signals and signs. _I cannot get pulled over,_ she thought to herself, feeling her anxiety levels rise. _Is that car following me?_ She looked over at her purse. _I cannot believe I have a machine gun in there! A machine gun! What am I doing with a machine gun?!_ She momentarily thought about turning around and taking the gun back. _Oh, my God, what have I gotten myself into?_

She thought about Arkham. It was her place of work. Sure, she wasn’t terribly thrilled to be working there, but she was passionate about psychiatric rehabilitation and it really gave her the opportunity to stretch her wings professionally. She was a likely candidate for a promotion, too, though that would restrict her ability to work one-on-one with patients as she so enjoyed doing. She thought for a long time about the morality of her actions, but she always kept coming back to his eyes. “They’ve never changed…” she said aloud. They harbored much more sadness and pain now than when he was smiling, but they were still the same. _Jack Napier. He had a fiancée. He had an unborn child._ Tears began to well in her eyes and she decided that she would be resolute in her assistance to him.

“You don’t deserve that pain, J,” she said to herself, using the nickname she heard in the club. “You don’t deserve it. I promise I’m going to get you out of there.” She imagined him coming to her office, his hand outstretched while the building fell apart around them. _Come with me, Harley. We’ll live together forever,_ he would tell her. It was a ridiculous thought, she knew, but she couldn’t help but hope that he felt the same way, too.

She arrived home safe and sound, entering her apartment almost close to midnight. It had been a long weekend and she knew she needed to get some sleep. She looked at her bag and pushed a black scarf on top it, as if that would hide what was inside. Sighing to herself, she pulled the gun and clips out of her purse and placed them on her bed. _How am supposed to get this past security??_ She thought maybe aluminum foil would fool the metal detectors but a quick internet search taught her that the foil would not be as dense as the metal in the gun, which would be identified in the X-ray. She thought about placing it in an iron pot as if she were bringing a dish in for a potluck. Same answer. The only thing that would fool the detectors would be to encase it with lead. _But I don’t have any lead, so…_ She threw her hands up in the air in frustration and fell back onto her bed. Looking over at the gun beside her, she was struck with an idea. She almost always beeped when she _walked_ through the metal detector. Her bag was scanned, but her body was not, and the guards—perhaps out of familiarity, laziness, or deference to the fact that she was a doctor—never scanned her body with the wand.

She would wear the gun on herself.

Though the gun was somewhat small she knew it would be difficult to hide it under her clothes. She looked at herself in her full-length mirror, holding the gun up while trying to figure out where she could put it. The only place that would make sense was having the gun oriented up and down on her stomach. She figured that she would wear a skirt and blouse to keep everything contained. The skirt could help, too, she realized, by distracting the guard with her long, bare legs. She would wear her big puffy winter jacket that she almost never wore to work. The puffiness in the jacket would hide anything she had secured underneath.

She tested it out. She put the nozzle of the gun in the top of her panties, threw on a blouse and buttoned it, and then grabbed her big jacket. _This might just work,_ she thought hopefully. _This might just work._ Getting all of her clothes set out on her chair—red pumps, charcoal gray skirt, and red blouse—she then worked to choose jewelry that she knew had set off the detectors before. She grabbed a handful of metal bangles. _That should do it,_ she thought. She also grabbed some red earrings to match her shoes. _Underwire!_ she yelled in her mind. She found her red satin bra and panties and placed it on the pile. _Now I got it covered for sure—jewelry, underwire—they won’t ask._

Harleen attempted to sleep but was restless through the night. She woke up ten minutes before her alarm set for 4:30, sitting straight up in her bed. She thought she had heard a noise outside but was too afraid to get up and look. She was on the second floor and was always jumpy when she heard noises outside so close to the windows. She laid with her head on the pillow and looked at the ceiling, imagining that it was Joker having climbed up and tapping on the glass pane. She would go to the window and let him in.

They kiss immediately as if their lungs couldn’t breathe without each other. Without words, he pushes her onto the bed and unhooks her bra with one quick movement. He leans her back and pulls off her panties and spreads her legs where he nearly dives in, pressing her clitoris hard with his hot tongue. Looking down at his green hair, she sees him look up with his bright blue eyes—a clear aqua like the sea—and she cannot believe that he is doing this to her. She grabs a fistful of bed sheet in her hands and clenches.

 _I want to feel him down there so badly,_ she thought to herself. She reached her hand down into her panties and to her soft folds to help complete her fantasy. She found her button of nerves and began to massage it, imaging that it was Joker’s slick tongue.

“ _Oh…_ ” she exhaled out loud, so close to climaxing.

Suddenly, her alarm went off, breaking her concentration. It was 4:30. “Damn it!” she cursed quietly to herself. Then, thinking about what she had to do and how she had to do it, she felt the anxiety quickly flood her mind. There was no way she could finish now. It just wouldn’t happen. _Fine,_ she surrendered. She turned off her alarm and rolled out of bed. After a quick breakfast and shower, she got herself ready with her make-up and clothing.

 _I look pretty good,_ she thought. _I can do this. I can do this!_

*****


	7. A Welcome Freedom

It was about 5:40 when she arrived at Arkham. There were not many cars in the lot as most of the staff worked 9:00 to 5:00, which followed the general daily schedule of the patients. Harleen started work at 7:00 because she was one of the more senior staff members and had more flexibility with her schedule. However, she was still over an hour before her usual start time and the dark, empty parking lot felt eerie to her. She got out of her car and went over to the passenger side where she leaned in and undid her blouse. Grabbing the gun out of her purse, she placed it against her stomach as she had practiced in the mirror. Finally able to stand up, she got her clothing in the right spot and finalized everything with buttoning up her jacket and placing the extra clips in her pocket. She took a deep breath, the crisp winter air shocking her body awake. She was as ready as she would ever be.

She walked in the front door to the security desk accompanied by a gust of frigid air. “Whew! It’s cold outside,” she said to the guard, trying to sound perky.

“Hey, Dr. Q, aren’t you a little early?” he asked innocently.

“Oh, yeah, but I figured I’d come in a bit before my start time today. I have so many cases to review, it’s ridiculous,” she fibbed, though not truly a lie. “Did you know that the winter months are the time of year when more people attempt suicide?” she asked him, while placing her bag in the X-ray machine, hoping to distract him from doing too well of a search, just in case.

“You know, that really makes sense,” he agreed, grabbing her bag from the machine as it passed through. “Go ahead and step through, Dr. Q.”

Harleen walked through and the machine beeped. She held out her wrist and shook her bracelets. “These and my underwire always set this machine off,” she laughed. “Hey, did you get a haircut? It looks nice.” She was trying desperately to keep his mind on other things.

“Oh, yeah, thanks, Dr. Q!” he responded emphatically, reaching up to touch his newly buzzed hair while looking at her beautiful light green eyes for just a little too long. “Oh, uh, here you go,” he said as he grabbed her bag from the counter and handed it to her awkwardly, uncertain if she were flirting with him or not.

“Terrific, thanks!” She looked at his nametag, “Thanks, Mr. Jones!” She started to walk through the gate toward the stairwell.

“Oh, call me TJ, Dr. Q,” he yelled to her.

“You got it, TJ! Thanks!” she called back as she tried to make her way as quickly up the stairs as possible. The gun made it difficult to move.

She finally made it to her office where she closed and locked the door behind her. Placing her bag on her chair, she looked around the room to be certain that no one was there. She had a fairly large office full of lots of furniture and she needed to be sure. Satisfied that no one was in the room watching her, she unbuttoned her blouse and pulled the gun out of her panties. _I cannot believe that I smuggled a freakin’ machine gun into work!_

She looked at it incredulously. It was made of dull black metal and had an eastern European-looking name on the side. She wrapped the gun and the clips in her black scarf and placed it into a plastic shopping bag. She then proceeded to put all of that in her larger shoulder bag. The time was 5:52 and she knew she had to move. Putting on her lab coat, she grabbed her bag and headed down the hallway past the big reception area and toward the residential unit. She glanced sideways to the hallway containing the interview rooms and smiled knowing that that was where it all started.

She reached the gate and pulled out her ID card, opening the door. The new guard at the post stood up from her chair. “Good morning, Dr. Quinzel,” she said. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, no,” Harleen told her, “I’m just dropping off some books that I wanted to give one of my patients for their next sessions.” She pointed her head to the plastic that was poking out of her shoulder bag. It was not uncommon for Harleen to drop off books, papers, and “homework” for her patients and the guard thought nothing of it.

“Don’t forget to take them out of the plastic bag, Doctor. You know, safety hazard,” she said, shrugging her shoulders and returning to her crossword puzzle as if she didn’t really care if any of them suffocated or hung themselves.

“Sure thing,” Harleen said as her red heels clicked down the long hall. _Cell 16,_ she thought as she looked the big painted number sixteen on the gray door. She opened the window. The light was on and the Joker was sitting cross-legged on his bed looking straight at her in expectation. She nodded her head, closed the window, and moved to the mailbox. Pulling the plastic bag out, she carefully removed the scarf with the gun and clips inside. She put it into the mailbox and closed her side, which would allow Joker to then access his side. _It is done,_ she thought. _Resolute. I have to remain resolute. I’m doing this for a reason,_ she reminded herself.

She walked down the hallway and waved to the guard with the plastic bag in her hand as if to prove she was just dropping off books. She was a nervous wreck as she finally got to her desk around 6:05. She knew some frightening things would be happening soon and all she could do was sit. She couldn’t leave. She thought in some place in her brain that the Joker would whisk her away... Pulling out his file, she looked through the notes again, her eyes glazing over as she thought to herself: _What have I done? Oh, my god, what have I done?_

*****

Joker stood up and approached the black material sitting on the ledge. He began to unwrap it, exposing the cold black metal and the three clips. He picked up the gun, almost caressing it. He brought it up to his cheek and kissed it while turning his lips into a scheming grin. Taking the black scarf, he tied it to the gun. It smelled like Harleen’s sweet perfume as he held it up to his face, breathing in her scent.

He felt okay in spite of everything. He ate all of the food that Harleen had left for him, which was pretty kind of her, he admitted to himself. But, being the ever-untrustworthy type of guy, he could never determine if she were in on the abuse. His memory was cloudy and he was experiencing patchy amnesia, but he _swore_ that he witnessed her in the sub-basement when the guards were having at it with the machine. He saw her with his own eyes.

Unable to sort out his thoughts, he knew that he would have to deal with her in some way. If she were in on it, then he wanted to exact his revenge. He would want to hurt her as badly as she had hurt him. His jaw clenched at the thought and he ground his silver-capped teeth against each other. He didn’t feel any remorse that he had manipulated her into getting the gun. He needed to get out. He sat on the edge of his bed staring at the gun in his lap for several minutes.

He looked over at the adrenaline pen and up at the clock. It was 6:20. _Time to go_ , he thought to himself. He injected the pen into his leg the way Harleen had shown him and began to feel the effects immediately. His heart rate increased, he felt jittery—really jittery—and found himself unable to remain seated. He paced around the room for a few minutes until he heard the guards in the hallway. They always had to enter every room in the residential unit to make sure their prisoners were still alive and to put them in straitjackets if they were destructive during the nighttime.

Joker turned out the lights on his side of the room so he could prepare quietly. As the guards approached his door, they turned on the lights from the master switch outside and swung open the door. Prepared with his gun, Joker opened fire on them, their blood splattering everywhere in the doorway amidst the loud popping sounds that pierced the quiet air. He laughed maniacally as he mowed them down, emptying his clip and killing all three instantaneously. He grabbed one of their ID cards and stepped over the corpses and their shining pools of warm, crimson blood. They had no chance. _Soon there will be more,_ he thought. _And I will be ready!_

He walked in his bare feet down the hallway toward the empty guard station and found the baseball bat that the guards had been used to beat him. Holding the bat in his left and the gun in his right, two guards he recognized rounded the corner. Joker fired shots at them, missing them as they screamed and ran away. 

One was shouting into his walkie-talkie about a lunatic with a machine gun. _It’s the Joker! He’s got a machine gun! Get out!_

One of the guards yelled as they both dove into the stair well. Suddenly, a huge explosion rocked the building. _My men,_ Joker smiled to himself. _I will reward them greatly for their loyalty._

Joker started shooting out the lights as gunfire erupted near the front of the building down the hall from him. They were not well staffed in the morning and he knew his men would not face too many obstacles. The gunfire continued beyond the patient reception area in front of him along with more explosions, causing tiles to loosen from the walls and crash on the floor.

Two of his men stood in the reception area and turned at the sound of gunfire coming from the darkened hallway. Soon, Joker’s hulking frame emerged from the dust and smoke, his jaw clenched and his eyes on fire.

“Boss!” the two men dressed as a panda and a shark yelled as they saw him. “Frost is at the entrance,” the shark said. “What’s next?”

“Ziggy,” he said, looking at the small man in the shark mask, “I need you to go down this hall and look for Dr. Quinzel’s office. Find her. She has long blonde hair and glasses. Bring her to me!” He grabbed him by the shoulder, “Do NOT kill her. Leave that bit to me.” He threw his head back and laughed like a lunatic.

“You got it!” Ziggy yelled from behind his shark mask, turning to run down the hall to find her office.

“You, come with me,” Joker pointed at the panda with his newly-acquired bat. “We need to take out some guards.” Panda was wearing a huge belt full of grenades and was carrying a big machine gun. Running back to the stairwell, Joker and the Panda ran down to the first floor where the guard’s station was. The air was cloudy with debris from the explosion. It turned out that his men had already cornered several of the guards in a stand-off, including two of the three who took part in gleefully torturing Joker with the electroshock.

“Well, look at who we got here,” he said, lifting his gun and shooting one of the guards between the eyes without even giving him a chance to respond. His dead body fell to the floor.

“ _Jesus! Jesus Christ_!” the other guard exclaimed. “We were just following orders! You want Winston, _Keith Winston_!” He was so scared he urinated, creating a huge wet spot on the front of his pants.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, for _fuck’s_ sake,” Joker rolled his eyes. “ _I’m_ the one you gave electroshock to every night for over a week and _you’re_ the one pissing your pants? Fucking pathetic.” He paused, holding the gun to the man's face. “Where is this _Winston_?” Joker asked, his voice deep and gruff, a look of hatred on his face.

“I-I-I don’t know! I don’t think he gets in today until 9:00!” he blubbered, beginning to cry.

“Oh, is that so?” he said, grabbing the guard by the throat.

Suddenly, the Joker was thrown back as the guard had fired his taser, vicariously shocking himself through Joker’s hand. Both men were thrown onto their backs and Joker’s men rushed to help him up.

“I got it. I got it,” he said, sitting up and staring at the guard. Joker had a very high pain tolerance and, even though he hated it, he could apparently handle electric shock better than most men. He figured he was just used to it by now.

“Get back, get way back,” Joker commanded to the Panda who stood over the guard with a gun pointed at his face as he gasped for air. “Here, hold this for me,” he said as he gave the Panda his gun. Smiling a devious yet brilliant silver smile, Joker picked up his bat from the floor and held it in his right hand. He swung it around in front of himself playfully before taking a swing at the guard on the floor. He cackled as he bludgeoned the man, his blows initially eliciting a protest from him until his skull was finally cracked and his head caved in. Blood from his face sprayed across the floor.

Joker looked up from the guard and at the Panda, his shirtless chest heaving as he rested the bat on his shoulder. His jaw was tense, satisfied that he had beaten one of his main abusers to death and shot the other. Now all he needed was Winston. He looked over toward the group of his men and saw Frost, his most trusted associate. He nodded his head in acknowledgment and Frost nodded back. The prison would be on lockdown and they were the ones in control.

“Getaway is already prepped out back, Boss,” Frost informed him.

“Police?” Joker asked.

“Delayed,” Frost responded with a smile.

“Good. We’ll get out of here as soon as I take care of _one more_ _thing_ ,” Joker said, turning around preparing to head up the stairs and turn right down the long hallway to Dr. Quinzel’s office.

At that moment, Ziggy turned the corner panting desperately, his face mask pulled up. “J... J...” he said, unable to control his breath, “She kicked me in the balls, man. _In the balls!_ _Fucking_ _bitch_! She went downstairs. I don’t know where.”

The Panda, standing behind the security console, caught sight of a woman’s image on the screen. “This her?” he said in a muffled voice as he pointed at the screen to the slim blonde woman in the white jacket.

Joker stepped around to see. “That’s her. Sub-basement,” he said, looking at the name of the camera. “Ziggy, come with me. The rest of you, wait for me at the getaway. I shouldn’t be more than thirty minutes.”

“You got it, boss,” Frost said as Ziggy followed Joker down the hallway to the stairwell.

*****


	8. A Certain Homecoming

After their encounter in the old file room in the sub-basement, Harleen led Joker down the hall and up the stairs to the basement level where they could escape. The halls were quiet and most of the staff were in hiding as they had been trained to do in emergency situations like this. She had taken off her high heels and carried them in her hand in order to not attract attention with each step. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him out of the stairwell and into the basement hallway and turned right.

“I have a getaway waiting out back,” Joker informed her.

“Follow me,” she responded, “There should be a door through this room.” She and Joker carefully walked into the darkened room being sure not to make a sound. The clock in the hallway showed 7:30 and she knew that most of the staff would not be present, but she always had to worry about the large number of orderlies and guards who worked 24/7.

Still holding his hand, Harleen made her way to the back of the room to a door with a small glass window in it. It led to a vestibule, which had a door to the outside. Harleen tried the long handle. It was locked.

She looked up at Joker in the faint light coming from the window. “It’s locked,” she whispered with a hint of alarm in her voice.

“No problem, doll,” Joker reassured her. “Step back.”

He felt around for something big and heavy and found a glass box on the wall that he believed held a fire extinguisher. Harleen, remembering that she had put her phone in her pocket, pulled it out and turned on the screen, illuminating the box for Joker. It was an extinguisher, but the case was jammed and couldn’t be opened.

“God damn it,” Joker grumbled. He made a fist and punched the glass, causing it to shatter into a thousand pieces. His hand bloody, he grabbed the extinguisher and began slamming it against the door handle.

 _So much for being quiet,_ Harleen thought to herself as she watched the man with green hair violently attack the door with the extinguisher. Eventually, the handle separated from the door allowing Joker to pull it off and push the rest through the opposite side.

“See? No problem,” he smiled as he turned to her, pushing open the door for her in a chivalrous gesture while slicking his sweaty emerald hair back onto his head.

They entered the vestibule and came upon an even bigger steel door with another small window, allowing them a view to the outside. The sun had just risen 15 minutes ago and the world was still misty in the quiet light of dawn. Harleen looked at the door and saw the black box with a small red LED signifying that that the only way to get out was to use a key card.

“Oh, no! I left my card at my desk!” Harleen said in a panic, checking her pockets.

Joker held her chin up to look at his face, gazing at her lovely features in the pale light. He kissed her softly and pushed her up against the wall where he ground his pelvis against her body, pressing his growing erection onto her. He wanted her to take her again so badly, but knew it would have to wait. His soft lips eagerly pressed against hers and her body seemed to melt in his embrace.

“Kitten,” he said confidently while looking directly into her eyes. “No problem.”

He held up the ID card he had stolen from the guard and swiped it against the black box, causing the door latch to click. Opening the door, they stepped outside into the cold, wintry air amidst a stand of pine trees.

Harleen looked up at Joker with a look of concern. “J, there are cameras.”

Without missing a beat, he grabbed her by the throat and held her at arm’s length. Harleen nearly dropped her shoes and phone on the ground.

He snarled his face at her and replied, “I have a few cars waiting on the other side of these trees. I’m going to take you there.” Harleen was afraid that he had suddenly turned on her, intending to hurt her as she feared. Then he winked at her and her body relaxed a little, understanding that it truly was a ploy for the cameras. She just couldn’t be sure—not with him, not today.

“Give me your phone,” Joker said. “We need to turn it off so your signal can’t be tracked.”

Handing him her phone, he deactivated it and slipped it back into her coat pocket.

Joker held Harleen’s hands behind her back with his left hand and held her throat with his right while walking her carefully over the bed of pine needles and out to the road where three black SUVs sat. Several of his men jumped out pointing their guns at Harleen.

“I’ll take her, boss,” the short shark announced, desperate to get his revenge.

“No, Zig, she’s _mine_ ,” Joker informed him. “Just keep your guns trained on her.” The guns would help to make it look like she was being kidnapped, giving her plausible deniability in the event the asylum staff and police suspected her of helping him escape. He placed her into the back seat and ran around to the front passenger side, jumping in.

“Let’s get outta here,” Joker shouted to his goon behind the wheel.

“You got it, boss,” the driver said as he slammed on the gas.

*****

The convoy split up as they drove away from the asylum after driving through the gate that they had blown up on their way in. The police had been called at least 30 minutes ago, but were now just arriving.

“Gimme!” Joker turned around holding out his hand while beckoning to Ziggy, who had sandwiched Harleen in the middle of the seat with another masked man on the opposite end. Ziggy handed his giant machine gun to Joker who promptly rolled down the window and pushed his naked torso through. Laughing insanely with his wild eyes, he fired at all of the police cars that had arrived and attempting to block their path. The other men grabbed their guns and began shooting from the windows as well, particularly at the tires, leaving the police cars stranded in the winding driveway leading up to Arkham.

“God, this is fun!” Joker yelled. “It feels good to be alive again!” His heart, if he even had one, filled with joy at the sense of freedom. Having disabled all of the vehicles, he pulled back in as the cops began firing at him. “Ooh, we got some live ones out there!” He laughed enthusiastically as they drove away.

The group of black SUVs drove for about 30 minutes on a highway and then on winding back roads through some forests and pretty residential areas, eventually crossing over a land bridge to the gates of a large estate, which opened and closed as the vehicles passed through. A tarnished bronze placard was inset into a large brick pillar, designating the residence as possibly a historical landmark, though Harleen could not tell from her position in the car. Harleen noticed a small black square hooked to the visor and realized it must be a transponder like the ones used on the expressway. _Brilliant,_ she thought as they drove toward the mansion at the far end of the grounds near a large body of water. _So this is his mansion, his home. This is how he hides in plain sight._

Joker turned to face Harleen, figuring she now had a better picture of his living situation. “Well, honey, welcome home!”

Harleen smiled an uncomfortable, anxious smile while the goons next to her laughed, thinking that she was being kidnapped and held for ransom or for some other reason.

The SUV pulled around to the parking lot at the back of the enormous house and down into a covered parking garage. Once the vehicle stopped, the men jumped out of the vehicle with Ziggy grabbing Harleen’s long hair and pulling her out of the seat as she screamed.

“Come on, bitch. Let’s move!” he yelled at her.

“Do not TOUCH her!” Joker howled as he came around to the driver’s side, grabbing Ziggy by the throat.

Instantly letting her hair go, Ziggy gurgled with Joker’s tight hand around his neck. It would most certainly leave a bruise.

“She’s mine. She’s here with me,” he explained while tightening his grip. “She’s not my captive and she is free to go at any time. If you mistreat her, I _will_ put a bullet in your skull. Do you understand?”

Ziggy did his best to shake his head yes, his face and eyes becoming cherry red. He desperately gasped for air and fell hard on the ground when Joker released his hold on him.

Realizing that his injured hand had started to bleed again, he looked around for the goon holding the machine gun with Harleen’s scarf.

“I need my gun,” he motioned to the man with his good hand. Removing the scarf from the gun where he had tied it, he wrapped it around his bloody hand and looked up at Harleen sheepishly.

“Harley, my dear, please come with me,” he implored her, holding out his left arm to provide her balance as she stepped out of the vehicle. “I have a lot to show you. A tour of the house is in order! I’ll show you where you can relax and then, if you don’t mind, I’m going to need to spend some time going over some business details.”

“That’s... that’s okay,” Harleen said meekly, feeling extremely out-of-place and a bit apprehensive.

“Good!” Joker said gleefully. Despite her anxiety, it made her happy to see him in a state of happiness and excitement. “Let me show you my home.”

*****

Joker led Harleen into the back door of the giant mansion through the parking garage. Even in the basement, the floors were made of a beautiful tan and chocolate tiled marble and the walls were a warm beige with dark burgundy and purple accents throughout. A group of men followed and entered a large ballroom opposite a bank of elevators.

“Give me a few,” Joker said to Frost as he entered the house.

“It sure is good to have you back, J,” Frost said with relief in his voice. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

A sly smile spread across Joker’s face. “It wasn’t all bad,” he explained, glancing at Harleen. Frost smiled back knowingly and turned into the ballroom.

Joker and Harleen entered the elevator as he explained a little about each level. He explained that the estate used to be an old golf course and was now the location of a nonprofit for wildlife conservation that his empire ran.

“I guess you could say that I’ve always had a heart for that—for animals,” he explained when confronted with Harleen’s quizzical look. “And it makes it easy to hide my money in a more, shall we say, _legitimate_ way... Plus, I run it through a trust, which is not connected to me in any way, since, as you already know, I’m technically dead.” He gave her a wry smile and snorted at the thought.

Harleen immediately thought of the obituary that she had read just yesterday at the library, which seemed like a hundred years ago. Donations were requested to be sent to the humane society. She smiled thinking that not _all_ remnants of who he used to be were gone. He still had some of his old humanity. He was a different person, but traces of what once was still existed.

He continued to describe his home in detail as they moved upward in the elevator. The basement had two large ballrooms—one was used by him and his men for private discussions and the other was a place where they held secret poker games—and it also held a few offices for his staff, including Frost. The first floor, also with two ballrooms, was the floor for hosting annual parties for the elite who donated to his nonprofit—to “keep up appearances and to help create a little revenue,” as he described. He never attended any of these parties himself, he explained. Guests were confined to the first floor and could only move through the stairs or elevator if their fingerprint were accepted by the scanner, which was limited to very few people. The first floor also housed an open bar, a lounge, and the Joker’s main office where his own staff could come and go as they needed. The second floor held rooms like a hotel—lots of guest rooms in case he needed to keep a crew overnight, but he never liked it too crowded in his big empty house. The staff for the nonprofit also had their offices on that floor. He explained that the staff members were paid very well and he knew that they would not turn on him as they were “hand chosen” and had to “prove their loyalty” to him on many occasions. Harleen could only wonder what that entailed. _Hurting others? Killing for him? Taking the fall? Extortion? I guess everyone has a price…_ The second floor also housed another type of meeting room that overlooked the front of the house and the grounds. Finally, the third floor was Joker’s domain and was inaccessible to anyone but him and a few staff members limited to his maid, his chef, and Frost. The floor included several bedrooms in addition to his master suite, several balconies, a jacuzzi, a theater, a library, a gourmet kitchen, a gym—“practically anything your little heart desires,” he told her. The fourth floor was technically the roof, which housed an indoor pool under glass “so you can watch the stars as you swim.”

They got off at the third floor and Joker led her around the corner and down another marble tiled and carpeted hallway to his master suite, which provided a view of the trees and what appeared to be a large body of water at the back of the house. It was absolutely gorgeous, Harleen thought as she stood on the soft carpet in front of the large window. Joker gently grabbed her elbow and pulled her to him.

“Look, Harley,” he said as he placed his hand on her cheek. “I have to leave for a bit.” His eyes were kind-looking as they searched hers. “Stay here, stay in my bed. Please. Get some rest.” He kissed her gently on the lips and ran his hand through her soft hair, tucking it behind her ear. “I think we have some things to talk about.”

“Okay,” she said as she sat down on the edge of the bed. _He wants to talk? Now? He’ll let me in his head?_ She admitted she was excited at the thought of spending some alone time with him now that they were in more comfortable surroundings. She realized that the wetness between her legs from their sexual encounter an hour ago was now sticky and dry. “Is there a place I can get cleaned up?” she asked.

“Of course, kitten,” he said, pointing to an entrance across the room, over 30 feet away. “That’s the bathroom. Draw yourself a bath, hop in the Jacuzzi, take a shower—whatever you need to get comfortable.” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. He looked at her neck where blood from his hand had transferred when he had grabbed her outside of the asylum. “You’re filthy. You better get cleaned up because I’m going to make you dirty again.” He gazed into her eyes and cupped the side of her face, smiling a lustful grin at her. “But, first,” he took a deep breath and stood up straight, “Business calls!”

He walked toward the bathroom and turned to open two doors which revealed a huge walk-in closet. He pulled off his Arkham pants, exposing his completely naked body. Harleen could not help but admire it. He was dirty and bloody and covered in tattoos. His chest muscles and abs were well-defined. The v-cut in his abdomen conveniently pointed to his considerably large penis and his muscular thighs and calves must have been sculpted by the gods themselves. He turned around to walk into the closet, showing off his perfect ass. _Wow,_ Harleen thought. She had no actual thoughts beyond that except thinking of his naked body on hers.

He disappeared into his room for about five minutes while Harleen sat on the bed with her brain reeling from the events of the day. He emerged in black dress pants, colorful argyle socks, black dress shoes, a dark purple shirt unbuttoned several buttons, and some gold chains. He had tinted his lips with messy red lipstick and added some charcoal around his eyes as he thought that it conveyed a sense of danger and craziness—or both. _And it works_ , Harleen thought.

He grabbed a silver cane and walked out of the closet smiling and holding his arms open. “What do you think, doll?”

“I-I like it,” she said, realizing the power he exuded when he was in full Joker mode. She sat on the bed in nearly paralyzed by shock at his visage. He was commanding and authoritative. And a bit scary. Very scary. _Scary but sexy,_ she thought.

“Oh, darling,” he said, coming over to her while sensing her apprehension, “There’s nothin’ to be afraid of. I’ll be back to see you soon. You wait here for me, okay?”

Harleen shook her head yes.

“Good,” he said as he kissed her again on the lips, the delicious scent of his newly applied cologne filling her nose. “I will be back,” he promised as he threw his cane in the air and grabbed it in the middle. He winked at her as he walked out of the large room and closed the door behind him.

*****

Joker left his bedroom with a strange feeling of contentment, which was foreign to him. He was home, in his own clothes, his men at his command, and a beautiful woman waiting for him in his bed. He swung his cane as he walked down the wide hallway to the elevator thinking about Harleen. He could not remember a time in his life when he felt so enthralled by a woman, and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the feeling. He knew that he had to have her—body and soul—and he needed to teach her how to let go as he learned on his own.

Making his way down to the basement ballroom, he was greeted by Frost at the door.

“I got the IC waiting for you, J,” he said, referring to his inner circle of men. “We’re just so glad to have ya back.”

“It’s good to be back,” Joker responded as he entered a smaller office inside of the ballroom. His inner circle consisted of about two dozen men whom he trusted with many secrets of his empire—particularly his location and his methods of acquiring money. Joker liked to keep his empire diversified in its asset acquisition. Not only did he funnel money through his nonprofit and trust, but he also used his club for selling drugs and guns while he and his team robbed the occasional bank or jewelry store. Lately, though, he had been moving to more sustainable and less risky means of procuring money, which involved a great deal of investment banking, bribing corrupt officials and CEOs, insider trading, and gambling. He was in the business of being rich and the old ways were simply too hackneyed and unimaginative. He felt confident in his change in approach as money had begun pouring into his coffers. It was almost too much to know what to do with and that in itself was starting to become boring. While he was now able to reward his men and his staff greatly for their loyalty, he was finding that things were coming too easily. He wanted a challenge. He _lived_ for a challenge. Things weren’t right in his life when there was no strife, no goal, no competition.

“Hello, men,” he said as he exuberantly greeted his inner circle, leaning his cane against the desk at the front of the room. “I’m baaaaack!” he said as he raised his open hands and shook them with a ridiculous smile on his face.

Then, in true Joker style, his demeanor changed and his gleeful facade immediately faded. “I’m back, no thanks to all of you worthless fucks!!” he accused the group. He grabbed his cane and swept every object off of his desk, smashing them against the wall. He looked out at the men seated in their chairs who had mixed expressions of fear, surprise, and a calm stoicism as if they had expected this kind of reaction from their boss.

Joker clenched his jaw and growled, turning his head to the side and then chuckled, knowing that his men had done all that they could and put up with a lot from him. They did help rule his empire and put their lives on the line for him. He looked out at his audience and began to laugh harder knowing that he must really confuse them with his quick shifts in personality from fun to serious in the blink of an eye. His laughter turned into a full-on, gut-busting, demented howl, which caused his men to begin nervously chuckling themselves as they glanced at each other sideways. Soon, the whole room was filled with unending laughter.

“Thank you, thank you for the laugh,” Joker said, taking a swig of liquor that he had poured for himself. “Now,” his tone became serious again, “give me some updates.”

He listened as Frost and his team talked about how they had been building some partnerships with more dealers on the drugs and guns front, but they all knew those money-making schemes—along with brick and mortar robberies—were losing their efficacy in the digital age. His empire had grown in its sophistication and his men spoke about how their proceeds from online sports gambling, corporate corruption, and special investments through insider trading were beginning to generate far more income than ever before. Soon, Joker wouldn’t need a team of hard-hitting henchmen to do his bidding. They would instead be computer geeks drinking orange soda and pressing buttons to move money around. _No empire lasts forever,_ he thought to himself.

After their very long discussion, he thanked and dismissed his men. He was satisfied with the direction his empire was moving and was glad he had Frost at the helm during his absence. Frost remained in the room after the men had left.

“Listen, J,” Frost said, “I didn’t want to bring this up during our meeting, but Emma tells me that there is more than six hundred thousand dollars missing from one of the accounts. I know that’s a drop in the bucket, but it is a significant amount to go missing.”

Joker could feel his face turn hot. “Which account?”

“The gambling account. Emma says that the total amount was spread out and buried in a ton of other profits and losses. It could have easily been overlooked, but you know how sharp of an eye she has,” Frost said, referring to Joker’s head accountant.

“Ziggy has that account, doesn’t he?” Joker asked.

“Yeah, Ziggy, Arlo, and Rocky, but Zig’s the one responsible for managing the gambling revenue.” Frost frowned as he looked at the Joker. “I just learned the other day. It looks like he made a big withdrawal last week, which Emma just happened to catch doing an early quarterly review. If she hadn’t, it would have all fallen by the wayside and gotten covered up, I’m sure.”

Joker clenched his jaw and looked for something to punch. He looked up at the ceiling and remembered some anger management methods that Harleen had taught him. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, taking one deep breath and letting it out very slowly. “Frost, you’re my right-hand man, you know this?”

“Yes, of course, J,” he responded.

“I will tell only you this, then.” Joker sighed and sat down in the leather chair behind the desk. “When I was inside, they tortured me with electroshock. And it wasn’t the fun kind either. No drugs, no fail safes, no nothing. It fucked with my brain. But one time I heard the guards mention that they were waiting for payment from a ‘Ziggy’... I forgot about it until just now. It’s all coming together....” Joker looked up at Frost with a wide smile. “Someone is about to get his due!”

“Tell me what you need me to do, Boss. Anything,” Frost said.

Joker was pensive for a moment. “Nah, you know what? I’m just going to let him think he’s untouchable for now.” He chuckled quietly. “The old me would have demanded we go to his house and chop off his dick, stick it in a blender, and force feed it to him. But my sweet doctor has taught me a few things,” he said, smiling and shaking his head up and down. “I’ll get him in good time. I can be patient.”

*****


	9. An Uncertain Decision

Harleen sat for several minutes on the bed after Joker left her alone in his large bedroom. Not once in a thousand years would she think that the Joker would have lived in a place like _this._ She knew he had style after seeing his office at the club, but this room, his mansion, his way of life... it was all such a shock.

Harleen looked around the room and studied its features. The walls were painted in a warm and inviting off-white with the king-sized bed opposite a panel of windows that covered the whole wall. The floor was a deep mahogany hardwood with a few beige rugs scattered throughout along with several plush chaise lounge chairs with white, gray, and maroon accent pillows. The Italianate fireplace was adorned with chalices that held candles and was flanked by two huge potted palms. On the opposite side of the room were several couches and chairs facing a dark cherry coffee table and two bookshelves full of books. She knew she would have to look at his collection. _What in the world does a man like the Joker read?_ She thought to herself.

She stood up and approached a glass door next to the windows, which lead to the balcony. The view was perfect. She was high enough to see a portion of the icy water through the leafless trees. She looked around and realized that there was water in nearly every direction. _Are we on an island?_ She wondered to herself. It was now snowing slightly and the yard was starting to receive a white dusting, creating a beautiful winter wonderland.

Leaving her lab coat on the bed and her heels on the floor, she turned to walk into the bathroom, which was just as astonishing in its beauty as the master bedroom. Four grand pillars marked the corners of a large Jacuzzi tub with a chandelier hanging directly above. The floors and counters were a stylish white and gray marble. She felt out of place as she walked around the opulent room, which was nearly as big as her entire apartment.

 _My apartment... Arkham..._ Harleen thought to herself. _I need to let someone know that I’m okay._

She found a washcloth and began to remove Joker’s blood from her neck with warm water. Looking at herself in the mirror, she didn’t quite recognize who she was. Within a span of a weekend, she was a psychiatric professional spending time with friends and family with a well-defined path in life... to procuring a semi-automatic weapon from a glitzy club in a seedy neighborhood and smuggling the weapon into a high-security prison where she worked. And now she was in the personal bathroom of the most feared criminal in the city. She couldn’t believe the incredible risk she had taken as the reality of the situation started to sink in.

 _I could have been killed! I could have been raped by that shark! I could have been caught! I could still be caught! I could lose my license! I could lose my job! I could lose everything!_ Harleen began to sob uncontrollably as she backed up against a pillar and slid to the floor. “Oh my god, what have I done?” she asked herself aloud as tears streamed down her face.

The emotions tore through her brain. She thought of herself, her family, her career, her workplace, her co-workers... She had put so much time into getting where she needed to be and making sure that everything fell into place just right. She was not even 30 years old and she had accomplished so much. “And now it could be gone... why? Why??” she questioned herself, looking at her shaking hands. “Because... because... I’m in _love_? But what if he doesn’t even love me? What if this doesn’t even last? What have I done?”

She couldn’t deny it any longer. She was in love with the Joker. Her patient. Her psychiatric rehabilitation services patient. An _insane_ man. A man without regard for others. A man who took what he wanted, when he wanted it.

She steadied her breathing for a moment, stopping to examine the interplay of the white and gray minerals in the marble floor tiles. Yes, she admitted to herself, Joker was a man who got what he wanted, but he built an empire from nothing. When his world collapsed around him, he got up on his feet and took it back. He’s not _insane_ , she realized. He knows _exactly_ what he’s doing. He’s a genius. He’s brilliant. He has the world in the palm of his hand that’s precisely his goal.

Harleen sat on the cool floor while tracing her fingers along the swirls in the tiles for a few more moments thinking about how this realization confirmed her diagnosis. So many former and supervising doctors had vehemently labeled the Joker as insane and psychotic. But now she realized the very opposite was true. Her diagnosis was correct. Joker was very much sane. He was not schizophrenic and he was not psychotic. He would not be able to run a billion dollar empire if he were. He was a sociopath, that was clear. He did have little regard for others and he did have trouble connecting with people emotionally. He may have even been that way his whole life, which is how he could have been so successful with academics and with his business, Harleen contended.

Feeling validated yet again, she stood up to look at herself in the mirror. She cleaned the make-up that had run down her face and removed her skirt and panties to clean up from her earlier encounter with him. The warm cloth on her soft lower lips reminded her of all of the fantasies she had had of Joker pressing his tongue between her legs. She thought of how amazing he felt inside of her not even two hours ago and her pulse began to quicken. _I had sex with the Joker and it was... incredible,_ she thought to herself.

She rinsed out the washcloth and her panties and hung them on a towel rack to dry. Realizing that she felt naked without her underwear, she entered Joker’s huge walk-in closet. The racks and shelves were built into all four walls of the room and contained so many clothes—more than her own closet—that she didn’t know where to start. She walked past the clothing hanging while holding her hand out to touch them one by one. He had mostly button down dress shirts and dress slacks with probably three dozen shoes in their own cubby spaces. The huge island in the middle housed drawers which, as she discovered, contained his unmentionables. He had lots of brightly colored boxer shorts in purples, greens, blues, and pinks and some equally colorful briefs. She caressed them thinking how often she fantasized about pulling them from his body. She pulled them out one by one, smiling as she studied their geometric and sometimes whimsical designs. She found a silky pair with red and black diamonds and decided those would be the ones to wear as they matched her red bra nicely.

Looking at the wall opposite of the door she saw a huge full-length mirror next to a vanity with a chair. On the table top was his red lipstick and charcoal eye shadow. She stood at the mirror and applied the lipstick to her own lips, imagining that she was vicariously kissing him. Noticing a long, fluffy black bathrobe hanging on the wall next to the mirror, she took it down from its hook. Wrapping herself in its warmth, Harleen imagined that it was Joker hugging her. Tying the belt tightly around her waist, she grabbed her skirt she had been carrying and walked back out into the huge bedroom.

She suddenly felt very tired, having gotten only a few hours of sleep, and she decided to take a nap on Joker’s bed. She sat down on the side closest to the door as she felt that was where Joker must sleep—as close to danger as possible. She pulled the plush blanket at the foot of the bed up to her neck and laid back on what must have been a dozen of the softest pillows known to the universe. Her eyes examined the intricate pattern of gray and maroon colors on the light gray bed spread as her eyelids became heavy. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt content in that space at that moment and she was sure no one would ever take it away from her.

*****

It was nearly noon by the time Joker had finished up his business downstairs with Frost and his men, and he knew that Harleen would be hungry. He checked the kitchen and saw that his chef, Antonio, had prepared some sandwiches and salads in anticipation of his “release.” It was so nice to finally have real food available to him—and the best kind of food—compared to the prison slop he had been eating for the past four or five months.

Joker entered the bedroom quietly to find Harleen wrapped in his black robe and asleep on his bed. He stood silently at the bedside for several minutes while watching her breathe. He couldn’t bring himself to wake her just yet as he bathed in the warmth of her beauty. _So pure, so innocent, so... perfect,_ he thought to himself. He instead turned and walked toward the wall of windows and looked out upon his estate. Just hours ago, he was locked in a cage like an animal, and the one responsible for setting him free was sleeping in his bed. He owed her a greater debt of gratitude than he could ever possibly admit.

Feeling a shadow fall on her face, Harleen shifted and looked around the room.

“J, is that you?” she called out to him.

“I’m right here, Harley,” he said as he walked to the bedside and sat down. “How do you feel? Are you hungry?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Harleen responded as she rubbed her sleepy eyes. “Very hungry.”

Joker smiled and lifted his thumb to touch her crimson colored lips. “I see that you got into my toys. It’s a nice color on you.” He carefully leaned in to give her a soft peck.

“I got into some other things, too,” Harleen smiled and giggled as she pulled the bathrobe open to reveal his boxers.

“Hmmmm, now just _what_ am I going to do with you?” he asked as his blue eyes flashed with playfulness. He leaned in again to kiss her harder, their tongues darting into one another’s mouths and their red lipstick smearing on each other’s faces.

Harleen lifted her hand to his exposed chest and felt the tight muscles of his pecs and abs. She placed her hand in the middle of his chest where she could feel his heart beat. She could feel her own heart beat in her lower abdomen as she became more excited with each of his passionate kisses. She couldn’t explain why, but she desperately wanted to feel him inside of her again.

Kicking off his shoes, Joker turned to lie on the bed facing her while holding the back of her head and kissing her as deeply as he could. His cock was incredibly hard and all he could think of was feeling the warmth of her depths again. He pushed his clothed pelvis against hers causing Harleen to release an intoxicating moan.

“Oh, god, J, I just wanna feel you inside of me again,” Harleen said between kisses.

Joker loved the fact that she was now calling him by his nickname. He lifted his hips from her body to allow her to undo his belt. She felt his erection as she unzipped his pants and was incredibly turned on by the fact that he was wearing regular clothes—not his Arkham-issued sweatpants and shirt. She stroked his cock through his silky underwear and could feel it jolt from her sensitive touch.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this,” Joker whispered in Harleen’s ear. “It’s always been you.” He started to rhythmically rock against the crease where her leg meets her hip, both still wearing their silky underclothes.  

With those words, Harleen looked into his eyes and kissed him more deeply than she ever could have imagined. His skin smelled like sweat and cologne—a scent she would forever memorize. She never had a relationship where she felt such passion, such freedom. She was incredibly aroused by his body—whether it was in her or _on_ her—and she could see he felt the same way.

He pulled his lips from hers as he just couldn’t concentrate on kissing and moving his pelvis at the same time. Other than the sex they had that morning and the intimate moment last night in his cell, this was the first time in a very long time that Joker had the comforting touch of a woman—and _never_ with this much fire and yearning. The silk against his rock hard member felt wonderful and he knew he couldn’t pull away.

“Harley, you are so sexy,” he said breathlessly. “I’m not even inside of you and this is what you do to me.”

His utterance caused the ache between her legs to feel like she was on fire. Joker moved his hand from behind her head to her breast and caressed it gently as Harleen placed her hand on his. Her lips found his again, crashing together with an impassioned fury.

“Oh, fuck Harley, you’re gonna make me... Ohh...” Joker moaned quietly into her mouth as he came on her, still almost fully clothed. He knew that she was just as ready to orgasm, and he reached his hand under her waistband and between her legs. Her hand helped to guide his fingers to the right spot where he rubbed for mere seconds before she felt her body tense.

“Mmm... Oh, J... Mmm,” she tried to hold back vocalizing her pleasure.

“You can be loud for me, baby,” Joker assured her. “I love it...”

And with that, Harleen’s pelvis exploded in a sensation that engulfed her whole body, sending what seemed to be an unending shockwave down to the tips of her toes. She practically screamed out in ecstasy, which completely captivated Joker causing him to stare at her blissful face. She leaned her head back even farther into her pillow as he continued to torture her clit with his adept fingers. She began to breathe erratically with moans building up again inside of her to the point that she was sure the neighbors could hear. Suddenly, a second, even more powerful orgasm surged through her body, like a torrent of electricity coursing through her every cell.

“OH GOD, J!” she cried out as he brought her to her second climax.

He leaned back in to kiss her as she continued to pant and come back down from her peak. She grabbed his hand and removed it from between her legs as she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle the rapture of a third orgasm.

“I’ve never... I’ve never...” Harleen lifted her head to Joker and attempted to speak as she caught her breath. “I’ve never been with a man who could give me two, sometimes barely even one...” She dropped her head back onto the pillow and exhaled loudly. The sweat on her chest glistened in the diffuse light filtering in from the winter wonderland outside.

“I’m so glad,” Joker said as he pushed his pelvis against her hip and he pulled her in for a long kiss. She could feel that he was mostly erect again. “You make me so...” he trailed off.

“Horny?” she completed his sentence, giggling flirtatiously.

“Very,” he responded, his voice low and solemn. “Incredibly. Completely. Inevitably. Constantly.” He sighed and pulled a pillow to meet his head so it would remain elevated.

They stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like eternity. As he gazed into her soft, sage green eyes, he knew that he had found the new challenge that he had been looking for. He knew he had to have her forever. 

“You know what, though?” Harleen said after fifteen minutes of being held and having her hair stroked by him.

“What?” Joker asked.

“I _am_ really hungry,” she responded, “...for food!” She smiled and started to chuckle, causing Joker to laugh out loud.

“Then I guess we better remedy that!” he exclaimed while jumping out of bed and pulling Harleen up to meet his face, planting a sweet kiss on her lips. “Let’s get cleaned up and get something to eat.”

*****


	10. A Hostile Takeover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: This chapter contains a violent sexual assault. Read at your own risk.

Harleen and Joker had an interesting afternoon of enjoying each other’s company, eating what the chef had prepared, and continuing the tour of the third floor. Even though Joker told her they needed to talk, the time never felt right for Harleen to broach any private topics. She kept her conversation limited to questions about his home, his staff, his empire, and his current lifestyle. It was strange for her having been his former therapist who was now given the opportunity to truly peer inside of his mind. As much as she wanted to, she dared not bring up anything that would make him think of his past. It was fine with her because she was a little uncomfortable as she was no longer the one in charge. They were no longer at Arkham... They were on Joker’s turf now. And as much as she thought she understood him, she knew she had to be careful.

Joker revealed to her very little about how he operated his empire, except to tell her that he was moving away plotting jewelry heists and bank robberies.

“It’s such a juvenile concept for the modern gangster,” he elucidated. He explained that he had begun to employ other more lucrative means of procuring revenue, which would prove to be less messy and less bloody. Though he liked the mess and the blood, he admitted that he was growing too old to deal with the fallout—like being “stashed away in a place like Arkham,” he told her.

After their tour toward the end of the afternoon, Joker realized there was one place that he did not show her. He took her in through the grand master bathroom past the central Jacuzzi and the huge glass paneled shower. He opened yet another door—in a house that seemed to be full of doors—which led to a small, enclosed room with a staircase. Climbing up the stairs, Harleen could feel the familiar sting of chlorine in her nose. Reaching the top of the stairs, she soaked in the view of the gorgeous blue-tiled pool. The walls of the room were made of glass and she could see in all directions. She could now see the perfectly manicured lawn, gardens, and trees all currently covered in snow and could only imagine what a vision it would be in the summertime.

She followed Joker to the stairs leading into the pool and dipped her toes into the water. Wearing only boxer shorts, he took two steps in and then splashed into the crystal blue water, drenching Harleen’s legs in the process.

“Oh, I’ve really missed this!” Joker yelled out loud. “Come in! The water is fine. It won’t bite... but I might.” He winked at Harleen.

Harleen stepped down into the water carefully, not wanting to get too deep and get her hair wet. Joker paddled over to her and grabbed her by the legs, pulling her almost all the way in. Harleen looked at Joker and realized that she loved this version of him. He was carefree and happy. He was smiling and full of whimsy but also quite naughty. It was the complete opposite of her initial interactions with him at Arkham. She stood in the shallow water, looking down at him as he bobbed his head up and down in the water.

“What is it?” he looked up at her smiling.

“It’s nothing,” she responded. “I mean, it’s just nice to see you so happy.”

“Hm,” Joker said, pausing in the water. “You’re not trying to psychoanalyze me, are you _Doctor_?” He brought his hands to the sides of his head in a motion to suggest he was crazy.

“No... No, never,” Harleen lied. “I just like seeing this side of you. You’re carefree.”

“Well,” he said, continuing to bob up and down as he spoke, “it’s hard to be carefree... when you’re on the inside.... Now that I’m out... I think you’ll get to know... the real me... a little bit better.”

“The _real_ you?” Harleen smiled playfully. “Are you saying that after all of our sessions together, you still have secrets you have kept from me?”

“Oh, you bet, Doctor Quinzel. You have no idea.” And with that he grabbed her and pulled her to him, pressing his chest against hers. He twirled her around in the water and began to dance. “Secret number one,” he said, “I enjoy a good dance from time to time.”

Harleen found herself unable to stop smiling. She still couldn’t believe where she was and with whom she was. This was totally out of character for her and she didn’t care. She squealed as Joker spun her in the water, their newly changed underclothes now completely soaked. He dipped her head down to nearly touch the surface, causing her to erupt into giggles, and pulled her back up to meet his face. Still smiling, she softly kissed him on the lips and he spun her around again as he started to hum a waltzing tune.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by footfalls coming up another set of stairs.

“J? J? Are you up here?” the voice said.

Joker snarled his lips and rolled his eyes at Frost’s voice interrupting their fun. “Yeah, Frost, we’re here.”

“Oh hey, J,” Frost stammered somewhat out of breath. “Hey, Miss Quinzel—”

“That’s _Doctor_ Quinzel, Frost,” Joker corrected him.

“Sorry, I meant _Doctor_ Quinzel, Boss. Hey, so the guys and I wanted to throw you a party to welcome you back. They wanted it to be a surprise, but I knew that might not fly since you have the good doctor here and all... Whoo! Sorry,” Frost panted as he sat down in a lounge chair. “You being gone has really caused me to gain some weight, J.”

“Do you hear this guy?” Joker asked Harleen. “I’m locked up for a few months and you’re blaming _me_ for force-feeding you chili dogs and corn chips?” Joker’s chuckle soon turned into a loud cackle while twirling Harleen once more in the water.

“Yeah, yeah, you know me too well, J,” Frost said. “Listen, I don’t mean to interrupt your _dance lessons_ —”

At that moment, Joker hit the water with his forearm, spraying it all over Frost.

“Hey!” Frost protested, wiping water from his face. “I don’t mean to _interrupt_... but we wanted to have a ‘ _surprise’_ dinner around seven o’clock at the club. You up for that?”

Joker looked at Harleen and then back at Frost. “Yeah,” he said, answering for her, “We think that would be fun! Let’s get out, have a night at the club, show you how to play cards. Have you ever played real, high-stakes Poker, babe?” Harleen shook her head back and forth. “Well, we’ll have to fix that.”

“All right, sounds good,” Frost said as he stood up to walk away. “We’ll see you at seven.”

“See you then...” Joker said in a sing-song way while hitting the water again to spray Frost.

“God dammit, J!” Frost could be heard mumbling as he dashed back down the stairs.

Joker resumed humming and dancing with Harleen as if he had no care in the world. And, at that moment, he did not.

*********

Joker and Harleen arrived at the club close to 7:00 as planned. Joker had offered to take Harleen shopping for a dress appropriate for the occasion, but she insisted she could wear the red shirt, dark gray skirt, and red pumps that she had started the day out with.

As they arrived through the back entrance, his men cheered. It was a far less formal gathering than the business meeting with his inner circle earlier that morning and more of his associates were in attendance.

“Hey J,” random people called out to him through the auditory fog of pulsating dance and hip-hop music.

“So glad you’re back, Mr. J.”

“Lookin’ good, boss.”

“Who’s the hot piece, J?”

Wearing a black tuxedo with a crisp white shirt and a thin black tie embellished with silver diamonds, Joker smirked and nodded at each comment. Harleen was locked in his arm while they made their way through the club to the larger meeting room used for special events such as this. Six or seven tables were set up with white linen tablecloths, flatware, and wine glasses as the catering staff was preparing to serve the meal, which included salad, lobster, filet mignon, a host of sides, and Gotham City cheesecake for dessert. When it came to Joker and his men, he spared no expense, especially when someone else was planning the party.

Joker began by thanking his men for sticking it out and having faith that he would return. He also introduced Harleen by telling them sternly that they better treat her with the same respect that they treat him or there will be blood.

“If I am the king,” he told them, “then she is my queen.” He looked at Harleen and smiled.

Harleen looked out at the men and could feel their eyes ogling her body. One man in particular caught her eye—Ziggy—the man she remembered from that morning. He was the shark pointing the gun at her in her office and he was the one who tried to pull her out of the SUV by her hair. She also met him the night before in the club, feeling utterly frightened by him. Joker was scary, but he was scary in a powerful, mysterious, and sexy way, she thought to herself. This man Ziggy was just plain scary and gross. She didn’t trust him at all. Her breath hitched as she tried to hold back a look of contempt for the man.

The night continued after the meal with a bit of high-stakes Poker and Blackjack, with Harleen glued to Joker’s lap. She occasionally would reach down between his legs and touch the erection that she had felt pressing against her thigh. She hoped that they would take a break and maybe have some fun in a back room somewhere and she was certain he felt the same way. Knowing how to read people, she would whisper suggestions in his ear as to who was bluffing and who was not while also whispering naughty things, including telling him that she was not wearing any panties. Eventually, she had a bit too much wine and needed to use the restroom.

“Use my private restroom inside of my office,” Joker whispered in her ear before she left the table. He wanted to follow her and have some of that fun she had been teasing him about, but he was in a particularly intense game with reputations at stake. The men’s eyes were glued to the game in deep concentration and they didn’t realize that she had left the noisy and smoky room.

The restroom was surprisingly spacious and was, of course, tiled from floor to ceiling in a dark green marble. Everything from the sconces to the soap dish was accented with gold. Before heading back to the table, she looked at herself in the mirror. All things considered, she still looked fantastic. She had been through so much throughout the day—the past several days—and still looked good. She put a check in the “win” column for that.

She heard the door knob jiggle and turned toward it. “J, is that you?” she asked to the person on the other side, fully expecting it to be Joker ready to take her up on her suggestion. There was no answer. “J?” No answer again.

Suddenly, the door sprung open with Ziggy on the other side holding a lock pick set.

“Oh, doctor. Sweet, sweet doctor,” Ziggy sneered, his gold grill exposed in the low light. He locked the door behind him and pushed it shut.

“Hey, you need to get outta here. HELP! HELP!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, but could not compete with the noise of the party and music.

Ziggy rushed toward her and put his hand on her mouth, pressing her head back onto the wall.

“No one is gonna hear you scream, dollbaby. No one. Well, ‘cept me. I _definitely_ want you to scream for me. I get to have a little fun too, right?” Ziggy breathed his putrid breath on her face. Though he was barely taller than Harleen, he was far more powerful and had one of her hands gripped tightly as her other one attempted to punch him.

“Oh, come on now. You ain’t doin’ shit with that.” He spun her around and threw her down onto the floor. Her mouth free once more, she began to scream again.

“Fucking _bitch_!” Ziggy yelled as he grabbed a heavy glass sconce from the wall and smashed her head with it. And with that, Harleen’s world went black.

*****

She regained consciousness just minutes later to find her hands zip-tied behind her back and her ankles zip-tied together. Her mouth was covered in duct tape preventing her from screaming out for help. Ziggy stood above her as she looked up at him with fear in her eyes. He dropped to his knees, forcing her legs open in a scene oddly reminiscent to one she experienced just that morning. But this time it was wholly unwanted and Harleen was sweating in terror.

Ziggy’s rough hands moved up her thighs to her skirt, pushing it up past her hips. He moaned aloud when he exposed her panty-less crotch.

“Oh, no panties, doctor? You make things too easy for me,” he breathed heavily as he frantically and clumsily undid the button and zipper on his pants.

Harleen squirmed seeing that he was completely revealed and erect. She tried to move backward, but was stopped by Ziggy’s foot holding down the tie between her ankles.

“J should have stayed in Arkham to rot there forever but you fucked it up. You fucked it all up. I figure that if you make things difficult for me, then I’m gonna make things difficult for you. Plus, I got a thing for blonde chicks.”

Harleen couldn’t believe she had gotten herself into this situation. _Where is Joker? How long have I been gone? Isn’t someone out there looking for me? Doesn’t Ziggy know that I will tell on him? Am I not getting out of this bathroom alive?_

Ziggy leaned over top of Harleen and pulled her hair while grabbing her neck, causing her to gag and choke. Ziggy ripped the duct tape from her face and started to kiss her with his sweaty lips. His kisses were sloppy and had a sickening taste, like cigarettes, alcohol, and meat. She did all that she could to turn her head and yell, but he only continued to choke her harder, preventing her from screaming out.

Finally, she felt it. His tip was pushing on her entrance, waiting for her lips to give way. She tensed her lower muscles and pushed as hard as she could to not allow him in. She swore she would not let him take her in this way. He would have to kill her first. He spent less than a minute desperately pressing to get inside of her but knew he had to be quick. He took his free hand and stuck his middle finger entirely in his mouth, completely covering it with his saliva. Then he reached down and began to finger her, with his slim finger quickly gaining entrance. She felt delirious from his choking as he slammed in and out of her.

“If you won’t let my dick in, then at least I can finger fuck you,” he panted in her ear as his left hand continued to grip her neck tightly. “Is this what you let Joker do to you? Do you let him fuck you with his fingers like me? I bet you like it, you dirty slut. Oh, but he’s not gonna want to touch you after I’m through... if you survive.” Then he pulled out his finger and began to jerk himself off, exhaling sharply as he shot his load onto her leg. She heard him release in her delirium and nearly threw up, which she would have if he hadn’t been choking her so hard.

“Oh, we’re not done yet. I’ll still get inside of you one way or the other,” he rasped at her as he unsuccessfully attempted to turn her onto her stomach. “If I can’t get in the front, then I’ll get in the back.”

Suddenly, there were several popping sounds outside and the door flew open. Harleen could barely open her eyes but saw Joker step in with a gun.

“You are a fucking dead man,” Joker announced as Ziggy turned toward him. With a face of stone, Joker then proceeded to unload the rest of the clip—eight shots in total—into Ziggy’s face. His dead, partially naked body slumped on top of Harleen’s.

Harleen looked up at Joker with tears in her eyes and began to sob.

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she choked and coughed.

“Don’t be sorry, shhh, shhh,” Joker reassured her as he rushed to her side. He pulled her limp body up and away from Ziggy’s corpse. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m so sorry.” Joker thought that if he had just killed Ziggy this morning like he discussed with Frost or at least made him eat his own dick, then Harleen wouldn’t be in this situation. Joker was torn between a confusing mixture of both concern and anger.

Joker leaned Harleen against the wall near the toilet as Frost stood by in the doorway.

“Whaddya need, Boss?” Frost asked, at the ready to provide whatever help Joker needed.

“One minute,” Joker replied, grabbing the glass sconce that was still lying on the floor. He took it in his injured right hand and began to smash Ziggy’s face with it. His facial bones were already punctured and cracked from the bullets and the thick glass helped to cave in his skull—the second face he caved in that day. Joker continued to pummel the dead man’s face for more than a minute as the skin broke and chunks of bone started to break away, allowing blood and brains to spray all over the floor. He wanted him to be unrecognizable, which he was when he was finally done.

Standing up, Joker threw the sconce down next to Ziggy’s deflated head, the heavy glass remaining intact. The gold grill of his now broken teeth had parted ways with his mouth and came to rest on the tile floor.

Joker washed his hands at the sink and turned to Frost. “Get someone to get this piece of shit out of here. I’m going home.”

Joker turned back to Harleen who was still leaning against the wall and struggling to gasp for air. Joker pulled out the switchblade that he kept in his pants pocket and carefully cut the plastic ties between her hands and feet. Reaching up for his shoulders, Harleen attempted to stand up but could not. Joker grabbed her underneath her arms and hoisted her body up into his warm and comforting embrace.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered tenderly in her ear as she began to sob uncontrollably on his chest. “I’ll _never_ let you out of my sight again.”

*****


	11. An Indelible Mark

Joker helped Harleen down the short hallway out of the bathroom and onto one of the soft leather sofas in his office. Harleen sat down on the couch in a daze, not quite realizing the full impact of what just happened in the last 10 minutes. Joker stood in front of her and leaned down to kiss her forehead and rub her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “How is your neck? Can you breathe? I can get you a doctor.”

Harleen looked up at him with sorrow in her lovely green eyes. “I’m okay. I don’t need a doctor, I just want to go home,” she said in a mere whisper.

“Okay, give me a few minutes. I’ll be right back,” he assured her, “and then I’m taking you back home.”

Harleen closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to get a bath and rest in a comfortable bed.

Joker returned to the bathroom where Ziggy’s half naked body was sprawled on the floor. He felt an anger well up within him—an anger greater than he ever felt when he was being tortured at Arkham. He felt completely betrayed by the man whom he trusted almost implicitly. Ziggy was part of his inner circle of men. He managed an important account. Yet, Ziggy was stealing from him and he knew there had to have been a connection between him and the guards at Arkham. He knew that Ziggy must have been paying them off. _For what purpose?_ Joker wondered. _To keep me subdued? To ensure I didn’t escape?_

Joker spat on the man’s body when a tattoo of the word “HA” on his lower abdomen caught his eye. Joker leaned down and lifted the dead man’s shirt and then ripped it open, causing its buttons to pop off. Joker’s lips turned downward as he saw that the man’s chest was littered in tattoos similar to his own: a jester, playing cards, laughter written out. Joker grabbed the bloody sconce that he had left on the floor.

“ _FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK_!!!!” he screamed out and then slammed the heavy glass onto the floor, breaking it into several large pieces and cutting his already injured hand even more in the process. “ _YOU MOTHERFUCK_!”

Joker’s chest heaved as he made the realization that Ziggy wasn’t just betraying Joker to the authorities, but he was also trying to become the Joker himself. Under normal circumstances, Joker might find this to be amusing—even flattering—but this once trusted associate was responsible for an unspeakable betrayal, which included defiling his queen. He wasn’t sure which act made him more angry—the fact that he was stealing his money to ensure that Arkham’s guards continued to terrorize him, the fact that he seemed to be emulating him in a probable attempt to usurp his position as leader of his empire, or the fact that he sexually assaulted his woman.

“J?” Frost said as he stepped back into the doorway. “I have a car ready for you.”

Joker wiped his mouth on his wrist, transferring some of his blood from his hand to his face. The blood flowing from the wounds on his hand now began to drip on the floor. “Jonny, we need to talk,” Joker said turning to Frost with a grim look. “You are the only person I can trust right now.”

Frost nodded in response. He knew things were serious when Joker called him by his first name and not his code name. Joker gestured to Ziggy’s tattooed body and explained that he believed Ziggy was planning on taking over his empire and how it lined up with the probable payments to the guards at Arkham. Frost agreed.

“I’ll keep tabs on Arlo and Rocky,” Frost suggested, referring to the other men who helped Ziggy manage the gambling account.

“Good, text me with anything you find. We need to stay close together on this one,” Joker said as he grabbed a hand towel from beneath the sink and wrapped it around his bloody hand. “No one tries to take over my business _or my girl_ and gets away with it!”

*****

Joker opted to have a driver take him and Harleen back to his mansion while he sat in the back seat of the SUV and held her shaking body. She had felt cold to the touch and he had placed his tuxedo jacket around her shoulders to help warm her up. Joker felt a confusing dichotomy of emotions ranging from near-blinding rage to a warm compassion, with the latter being the most unfamiliar to him. In a sense, it scared him to feel this way as it made him too vulnerable. He didn’t like feeling captive to his emotions, which made him an easy target for emotional warfare. When you care for someone, he always reminded himself, you can be manipulated. He learned that the hard way so many years ago. He winced as the painful memories of his life that once was, including his soon-to-be wife and unborn child, came tumbling back into his mind. He had tried to repress them by drowning himself in alcohol, drugs, and crime over the years, but he was beginning to remember and he was not comfortable with the pain of those memories.

“I’m sorry,” Joker nuzzled Harleen’s ear and whispered quietly, nearly drowned out by the sound of the vehicle’s engine. He pulled her head toward him to rest on his shoulder as he watched the view change from dirty city streets and highways to rural scenes of forests and large homes with huge lawns. Petting her hair and occasionally kissing her forehead during the journey, they arrived at his place.

Finally making it up to Joker’s floor, Harleen felt that she could relax. She felt safe with him, even in light of the events at the club that night. Her neck hurt and she felt a bit delirious from the shock, but she insisted to him that she was otherwise okay.

“I’d just love a bath,” she responded when Joker asked her if there were anything he could do for her.

Joker carefully undressed Harleen and laid her on the bed, proceeding to then draw a warm bath for her. As he helped her into the bathtub, he could not help but enjoy the perfect curves of her smooth body. He dipped a shower scrunchy into the soapy water and began to gently scrub her arms and chest, trying his best not to become aroused as his hands followed her womanly shape. He carefully washed the skin on her neck where he could see a yellow bruise had already begun to develop. The blood from his hand began to stream down her chest and stain the water.

“Are you okay, J?” Harleen asked as she noticed just how badly his hand was bleeding.

“I’m fine,” Joker said tersely. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

Harleen wanted to smile at his admission but couldn’t bring herself to do so. _He’s worried about me. He cares about me,_ she thought to herself. This was a tender and loving side of Joker that she had never thought she would ever see—or that she even thought existed.

Satisfied that her neck was clean, he continued to scrub her body below the surface of the water. He stiffened as he rubbed her flat stomach and her long legs, but his lust was countered with anger as he thought of how Ziggy may have polluted her.

“Harleen,” Joker said softly as he paused scrubbing and re-rolled his white sleeves. “Harley, what happened? I need to know.”

Harleen looked up with shame on her face. “J, he didn’t... he didn’t rape me,” she assured him. “But...” she said quietly, looking down at his bloody hand dripping in the water, “...he tried to. He almost did. He... he shoved his finger inside of me. And he grabbed my hair and he choked me. He put duct tape on my face and then ripped it off and kissed me. I tried to scream so you could hear me, but he was choking me so hard that I almost passed out. That’s when you came in and saved me.” She lifted her hand up and linked her fingers in with his. She couldn’t bring her eyes to his as she stared at his loosened tie around his neck. When she finally met his gaze, Joker’s mouth was slightly agape and she could see that he was desperately trying to control his anger with his breathing.

The veins in his neck were protruding as he released her fingers and ran his wet and bloody hand through his verdant hair. He knew he was to blame for the event and he just wanted to punch something. He stood up and paced through the bathroom, stopping to lean over one of the sinks and look at his reflection. He was never pleased with what he saw but he never seemed to care until now—now that he had been reminded of his past. _I’m no longer that person anymore_ , he thought. _This is what I am now. A monster. A hideous fucking monster._

His guttural growl increased in volume as he picked up a toothbrush holder made of granite and smashed it against the mirror, shattering the glass all over the countertop. Harleen gasped and slid farther down in the tub concerned that he was upset with her. She watched as he stood leaning over the counter looking downward for several minutes as if he were trying to compartmentalize his rage and keep it in check.

Joker gathered his thoughts as he knew this was not a productive way to take out his anger. He didn’t want to scare Harleen. He did, in fact, kill her abuser, which was very satisfying. He had no chance. _Ziggy must have known that,_ he contended. _He must have planned to kill Harleen and maybe pin it on someone else... and I would have believed him any other day._ Joker took a deep breath and turned to Harleen with a look of concern.

“Are you ready to get dried off yet?” he asked her. He grabbed a big fluffy white towel as she shook her head yes, the blood from his hand starting to stain the edge as he held it.

“That’s okay,” Harleen said as she saw the look of consternation on his face at the realization that he was making her towel bloody. She gently held his hand, bringing it to her face to kiss it. “Do you have any gauze? We should wrap this up.”

“I’m not worried about it. Let’s just get you over to the bed, okay?” he told her as he helped her stand and dry off. He walked her to his bed and turned down the covers, allowing her to slip in. He kissed her on the forehead as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“J?” Harleen asked into the darkness. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. I promise,” he said, leaning in to kiss her on the lips. His hand was beginning to pulsate from the heat of the bathwater. He removed his pants and then unbuttoned his once crisp, white shirt, which he had begun wrapping around his injured hand. He climbed into bed next to Harleen and held her tight.

“I promise I won’t leave,” he reassured her as she drifted off to sleep.

*****

Harleen slept through the entire night and finally awoke at noon the next day. She sat up in bed and saw no sign of Joker in the room. The world outside was sunny with a cool blue sky slightly visible through the naked tree tops obscuring the view. She laid in bed and felt her throat, it was painful and sore, and she felt a large, tender lump on the side of her head where she had been struck—a stark reminder of the assault she endured the night before.

She felt sick to her stomach thinking of what that man had attempted to do her and what he succeeded in doing to her. She thought about Joker and hoped that this fact didn’t deter him from wanting her. She just got him. She didn’t want to lose him so quickly. She felt scared—scared about this world that Joker had introduced her to. She was now part of his life, which meant that she could be subject to the same danger that surrounded him. She could be collateral damage and a target for being his “queen.”

Her heart raced and the knot in her stomach grew as she began to replay the events of the night before in her mind. She knew that man was trouble from the start. She just had a feeling about it. She kept thinking over and over how she could have avoided the situation—how she should have waited or screamed louder. She thought of how pale Joker looked when he seemed to materialize in the bathroom, a golden gun in his hand. She knew he was brutal, but she never thought that he could be so violent and it frightened her. She thought about how deformed her attacker’s face became with each punch that Joker laid on him with the sconce. She pictured his blood and brains and eyes and tongue and teeth breaking or oozing out of his face. His blood was cast in all directions, some landing on her clothing and bare skin. In all of her years of practicing medicine, she had never seen a dead person.

The vision tumbled in her head and arrested all other thoughts. She suddenly felt a wave of sickness flood her body and she rushed to the bathroom to throw up in the toilet. She took a drink of water from the sink and then gargled with some mouthwash that she found in a cabinet, avoiding the broken glass all around. She felt a little bit better and headed back to lie in bed.

*****

Harleen awoke several hours later to darkness. It was the middle of winter and the sun set very early, so she knew it was after 5:00. She looked around the room for an alarm clock or a wall clock of any kind but she couldn’t find anything. That’s when a figure sitting on a chair in the darkness caught her eye. Her pulse began to race as her heart threatened to jump out of her chest.

“J, is that you?” she called to the obscure figure in the shadows.

“It’s me, kitten. It’s just me,” he said as he yawned. He had clearly fallen asleep in the chair while watching over her.

“How long have you been sitting there?” she asked.

“Long enough to know that you talk in your sleep and mumble the most adorable things,” he said as he sat down on the bed beside her. “You must be starving. The chef is gone, but I will make you whatever you want. Eggs? Bacon? Toast?”

“Mmm, yes!”

“Okay, you got it,” he replied with a sweet grin, filling Harleen with joy.

Joker was a man who was full of surprises, she was learning quickly. She took his injured hand in her own noticing that it was now wrapped in gauze.

“Your poor hand,” she whispered as she brought it to her lips, caressing and sprinkling it with soft kisses. She examined the damage and tucked in some of the loose, bloody gauze.

Joker pulled away, not used to having someone care for his wellbeing. It was a feeling that he could get used to if he weren’t careful. And the more that Harleen showed concern, love, and tenderness for him, the more he craved it. He needed it. _Maybe this is what I’ve been missing,_ he thought to himself. From deep within, he felt a strange upwelling of... was it love? All he knew for sure was that, in this very moment, he felt a peacefulness in his usually taut and strained chest. He then cupped Harleen’s beautiful face with both hands and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead.  

“Come with me,” he said. “I have a surprise for you.”

*****

Harleen finished what must have been the most delicious omelet she had ever tasted, made by Joker himself, and felt like she was in heaven. She enjoyed watching him move through the kitchen with ease, adding a bit of flavor to her dish with cherry tomatoes, grilled asparagus, and feta cheese.

“You didn’t tell me you were such a talented chef,” she said, placing her fork on her plate and smiling widely at him.

Pushing his plate away from himself, he brought his elbow to the surface and rested his chin in his hand.

“I told you, Doctor,” he said playfully, “I’m just full of secrets.” Then he gathered their plates and put them on the counter in a kitchen that was spacious enough to fit at least 20 people easily.

“How do you not get lost in your own home?” she asked rhetorically as she gazed around the room, taking in all of its features from the stainless steel appliances, the dark cherry floor, and the exposed beams to the light gray granite countertops and the matching cabinet handles. She thought of how much of a shock it must have been for him to go from this kind of luxury to spending two months in solitary confinement at Arkham in a windowless room with light green paint chipping from the cinderblock walls. She thought of her first meeting with him as he sat tranquilized on his cot unable to hold her gaze. _He must have been so miserable,_ she thought as undid her black bathrobe and re-tied it, revealing her nude body to Joker’s hungry eyes in the process.

“That reminds me,” he said with glee. “I have a surprise for you! Come with me.” He held out his elbow and locked Harleen’s arm in it as he walked with her into the hallway. “I hope you like it,” he turned and kissed her on the temple.

*****

Leading her downstairs to one of the large ballrooms on the first floor, Joker directed Harleen to a large inner office full of several tables upon which were dozens of bags from clothing retailers. Harleen’s eyes widened as she realized the full scope of the surprise... Victoria’s Secret, Gucci, Ann Taylor, Prada, Versace...

Joker, pulling the cord to close the thick, heavy maroon colored drapes, turned to stare at Harleen’s face as she delighted in the display. He watched as she reached into each bag to pull out all manner of gorgeous clothing that his staff had purchased for her, with her looking up at him while gasping and squealing like a little girl at each piece that she retrieved and held up to herself. Dresses, skirts, tops, sweaters, blouses, slacks, shoes, bras, panties... most of it all in the correct size as Joker had found the sizes on the clothing she had worn to his home. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

“J,” she exclaimed, “this must have cost you a small fortune!” She surveyed the clothing that she had laid out on the table, with some price tags at over a thousand dollars. “I... I...” she paused as she became overwhelmed with emotion. “I can’t accept this!”

“It’s my gift to you,” he told her. “Harleen...” he said quietly, looking down at his injured hand. “Harleen, you saved me in more ways than one. I owe you so much more than just _this_.”

He looked up and touched her cheek, his fingers electric on her skin. He couldn’t explain why he wanted her so badly. He wanted their bodies to be forever intertwined with each other. He wanted to be inside of her, hearing her call out his name in that most intimate moment of shared rapture. He wanted her to delight in his body as much as he delighted in hers. Just inches from her face, he could feel her soft breath on his lips. Slowly her lips parted and he pressed his mouth onto hers, their tongues dancing together like two lovers completely in tune with each other. His pants were tight from his pulsating erection, which he pushed into her hip. He let out a soft guttural sigh as she pushed her pelvis back against his. His hand moved from her hair down to her neck, tugging at her skin in the process.

“Ow!” Harleen gasped quietly and winced in pain. She brought her hand up to meet Joker’s and pulled it to her shoulder.

“Oh, Harley, I’m so sorry,” he apologized, stepping back to look at the growing yellow bruise. He could see fingerprints on her neck, four on one side and one on the other showing where Ziggy had gripped her so tightly. He leaned in and hugged her with his cheek to her ear as he breathed heavy, hot breaths into her hair. He wanted her more than anything he ever wanted in his life, but he didn’t want to be the cause of her pain. His brain fought against the aching, animalist urges that had grown between his legs. He was on fire and ready to combust into a raging inferno. Luckily, his brain won the battle and he decided against his poorer judgment of lustfully ravaging Harleen on the floor. He took a deep breath and kissed her on the cheek, releasing her from his embrace.

Then he turned and pulled out another bag that he had hidden on the floor behind a desk. Harleen’s jaw dropped as he revealed the tell-tale turquoise colored Tiffany & Co bag and placed it on the table.

“I want you to have this,” he said as he pulled out a large matching blue box and handed it to Harleen.

Opening the box, she encountered a velvety black case and removed it. She lifted the lid to unveil a platinum necklace with a solitaire diamond pendant and earrings to match. She knew the price tag had to be at least ten thousand dollars.

“J... J...” she stumbled on her words, tears forming in her eyes. “I don’t know what to say. This is so beautiful. Thank you.” She looked up at him as a tear fell from her eye and down her cheek. He wiped it away with his calloused thumb on his wounded hand.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said as he reached into the box and removed the necklace. Holding the necklace in his hand, he gently brushed her long hair to the side and pulled the black robe down to expose her smooth shoulders. He fumbled as he tried to attach the clasp and cursed at its inability to open, which caused Harleen to giggle. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled as she touched the pendant, tears welling in her eyes again.

“Thank you,” she sighed into his ear as she embraced him and kissed him on the cheek. “It is so perfect.”

Joker smiled and held her hard against his body, feeling a satisfaction that he had never felt before. He never wanted to let her go.

*****


	12. A Time Together

The couple spent the next several days enjoying each other’s company in the little time that they shared together. She ended up sleeping alone most of the nights after Joker had held her as she dozed off, though she would later wake up to find that he was gone. They had kissed on several occasions, but he always stopped before going any further. She was glad he was giving her a little bit of space, even though she maintained that she was totally fine. However, it was nice to see him exercising a bit of restraint on his end. She knew it couldn’t be easy for a man like Joker to hold back when he was so used to always getting what he wanted when he wanted it.

Joker spent most of the days delving back into running his empire. It was perhaps a way to distract himself from the sexual tension that had been building between the two. Harleen learned that he was an incredibly shrewd businessman and worked at running his empire with more dedication than a CEO of a legitimate corporation. She would often find him sitting in his office on the first floor with his face buried in paperwork, even at all hours of the night. She felt bad because most days it seemed like she was simply a bother, though he never made her feel this way. He was just constantly busy with phone calls and visits from his crew and meetings with Frost.

On one occasion, Harleen got to spend some good quality time with Frost when Joker sent her to his office in order to give her biometric access to the elevator and stairwells. She discovered he had a pretty big office in the basement, replete with tons of computers and monitors covering one wall.

“This is a pretty official set-up,” she announced in awe as she poked her head into the door.

“Hey, doctor,” Frost called out to her, having seen her approach his door on one of the many computer screens. “This is where the magic happens.”

“So, what do you do here? What is your role?” Harleen asked, always an inquisitive and curious type of person.

Frost sighed heavily, “I am... Mr. J’s right-hand man. I do it all. I’m security. I keep the men in line and resolve problems before they get to J. And I run the tech side.”

“That sounds like a lot of... work!” she chortled. “I’m really impressed. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Most days, I don’t know how I do it either,” Frost said, his voice deadpan. Then his round face broke into a big, lovely smile and she immediately felt comfortable in his presence. He was so... normal compared to the emotional complexity of Joker, she had realized. “I was about to grab a drink, would you want to join me?” he asked.

The pair headed upstairs to the bar and Frost poured himself a whiskey and a pinot noir for Harleen at her request. While she was not a big drinker, she definitely enjoyed indulging in a good wine from time to time.

“So, that was a big risk you must have taken when you stopped by the club the other night for the gun,” Frost said, as he sat down next to Harleen.

The memory of that night, though not even one week ago, came rushing back to Harleen. It felt like it had been a month.

“Yeah, it was risky,” she responded. “I mean, it was really risky. I... I didn’t know what to expect when I met you.” She looked at Frost, his eyebrows were crinkled together in a knot of concern. “Then, I had to figure out how to get the damn gun _into_ the prison. I just didn’t know what to do. I was really scared.” She put her glass down and stared at the play of light refracting through its clear stem.

“Well, you know, J is not a man of many words. Or at least he is not when it comes to his emotions. But I know that he respects you and appreciates you for what you have done for him. I’ve worked with him for about ten years now and I don’t even know as much as I should about him, but I’ve gotten really good at reading him.” He placed his glass down and rubbed his bearded face with his hand in deep contemplation. “J is... unpredictable and ruthless, but there is always purpose. He never turns on his men if they remain loyal to him,” he said as he looked toward Harleen.

“I see,” she said, thinking about the situation with Ziggy and thinking about how she herself has now been drawn into the world of the Joker. “I am fascinated at how he is able to run the show here and not risk having any scorned associate turn on him and reveal his whereabouts.”

“Well, you see, he only reveals certain things to certain people,” he explained. “He has his inner circle of men. They are... well, up until Monday, they were all thought to be the most trustworthy and loyal men that he employs. But there are two things when it comes to working for Joker—no, three things. One, he pays very, _very_ well. We’re all millionaires or we’re going to be millionaires eventually. Two, he knows your weaknesses. He knows where you live. He knows every single family member you have. He knows every sensitive pressure point. He knows all of it. And three, once you’re in, you’re in for life. There is no turning back.” Frost sat back in his stool and dusted imaginary particles of dirt from his pants.

“It sounds like a tough life,” Harleen pondered.

“Oh, believe me, it is... it definitely is...” Frost contemplated for a moment. “But things are a little different now. Things are less... risky. I’m not out getting shot at every damn day. J himself is different. I’m sure we have you to thank for that, doc.”

“Hmph, maybe, I’m not sure. I mean, he’s a very complex person. He’s a complex nut to crack. No, wait! I didn’t mean it that way!” she said defensively and then began to laugh.

Frost chuckled in agreement. “Yeah, he _is_ a tough nut to crack. And some would say he _is_ nuts, but, you know, doc, and I’m sure you do, the Joker is not nuts. He is one of the most sane people that I know. He is a bit of an actor sometimes, playing the part of a crazy lunatic. But he has a code and he follows it. It’s the rest of the world that is fucked up. It’s so fucked up. He just looks nuts as a matter of perspective. It’s all relative.”

Harleen reflected on his point for a moment. “You’re right,” she agreed. “I mean, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think that there wasn’t something right about this situation. Unless I’m really fucked up. And I guess I could be!” She widened her eyes and smiled at Frost. He nodded and smiled back, his kind eyes twinkling in their dark depths.

“You know, between you and me, Harleen...” he said, his voice lowered as he leaned toward her, “you’re the first woman he has ever let in. I mean, to my knowledge, you’re the first he has let into his house, into his head, into his _bed..._ For as long as I have known him, he has just never had the time or the inclination to pursue any kind of relationship. Sure, he has had women _throw_ themselves on him, like at the club, giving him dances and sitting on his lap. But he never takes any of them home. He’s always been so engrossed in his business. I guess that’s what makes him so successful. I’m sure this is a really... _unreal_ situation for him... Just go easy on him. He might be learning the ropes as he goes.”

Harleen sat in a stunned silence, her face hot thinking about how he turned down other women because he was so consumed with running his empire. She didn’t know if she should feel special or if she were just a game, just his next challenge. She swirled her last swig of wine in her glass before drinking it down.

“I didn’t know that...” Harleen said, her voice trailing off.

“Didn’t know what?” Joker interjected as he stood in the doorway.

Harleen jumped in her seat while the unflappable Frost remained calm and cool.

“I told her that you are a dancer at heart, J,” Frost yelled back to him.

“Well, it’s true,” Joker responded as Harleen spun around on her stool. He held his arms up as if he were holding an invisible dance partner as he danced toward her. “Please, may I have this dance, miss?” he said as he bent down toward her in chivalrous deference.

“I would love to,” she smiled as she jumped off her chair and into his open arms.

Frost turned in his seat to watch the two waltz amidst the tables in the large room. He smirked as he saw Joker laugh sincerely for what could have been the first time in years. He liked Harleen and he was happy that his boss finally had someone he could finally confide in and share his life with.

*****

“You know what today is?” Joker asked Harleen later that night after she sat curled up on a couch in his office reading a book.

“No, tell me,” she said looking up at the pale man with green hair sitting at his desk.

“Silly kitten. Today is New Year’s Eve. How could you forget?” he said.

Harleen closed the book she was reading on the architecture of Gotham and stared at Joker with her mouth ajar and a confounded look on her face.

“I completely forgot. It’s like I’ve been in this... I don’t know, fog, I guess,” she explained.

“Well, it’s almost midnight. Come with me.” He reached out for her hand and led her into yet another room adjacent to his office, its entrance hidden with a false wall. This room contained a few couches and a large screen TV where he could get away from all of the people “pestering” him, as he explained to her. He turned on the TV which showed Times Square in Gotham and the countdown to the New Year, which was in less than 20 minutes. Joker left the room and returned with a chilled bottle of champagne and two glasses. The pair enjoyed a few sips as they both watched the festivities on the street.

Joker could feel her eyes on him as she studied his features and looked back at the TV screen. Harleen wanted to ask him if he ever missed being able to attend things like this—to be part of regular society—being that he was so recognizable and always pursued by the authorities, but she couldn’t think of a way to frame the question without offending him.

“You’re wondering how I get by, how I’ve gotten by all this time, aren’t you?” he asked as if he could literally read her mind.

Harleen gasped and exhaled sharply. “How did you... how did you know?”

“I just know,” he responded.

“Well,” Harleen swallowed hard, “I was wondering if it ever bothers you that you can’t go out and do the things that normal people do. You know, you kind of stand out with your green hair and all...”

“Normal is over-rated,” he said brashly. “I have everything I could ever want. These fucks... well, what are they doing? They’re standing in the freezing cold with a million other idiots watching a god damn disco ball fall on top of a building. Meanwhile, I’m drinking champagne and living in a twenty million dollar mansion.”

There was a long pause as they both sat thinking and watching the festivities. Then, turning to her, he said, “Plus, I have my ways. That is, if I ever wanted—ever _needed_ —to step foot out in that world anonymously, I can do it. I’ve done it lots of times before. How do you think I have been so successful with planning heists and robberies in the past? I look pretty good in a wig and some bronzer, you know.” His tone had turned light-hearted and he gave her a wink that melted her insides.

She could only imagine Joker walking down the street in a long wool jacket and fancy business clothes, a dark brown wig adorning his head, and flesh-colored make-up making him look less ashen in color. It would be quite a strange sight, she thought as she pondered the image, thinking about the picture in his obituary. He set his drink down and stood up, holding out his hand for her.

“C’mere, doll,” he said. Harleen grabbed his hand and stood up to face him. She stared into his eyes—the same beautiful blue oceans that had captivated her so long ago. “Happy New Year,” he told her as the ten-second countdown had begun on the TV.

He took her in his arms and pulled her close, his lips yearning to devour her lips, his heart yearning to possess her heart. His strong hands held her head as he leaned in to tenderly kiss her delicate pink lips. Mirroring his hands, she ran hers through his lengthy green strands and kissed him back with a greater hunger, one that was matched by him in response. Every kiss they shared grew in more passion and fervor than each one before it as if each subsequent kiss was the kiss to end all kisses. Their tongues and lips moved in perfect harmony, like a symphonious connection of flesh. His hands moved to her waist to pull her in tight while pressing his hardened member into her pelvis. They had only had sex once—their first time while in Arkham—and it was killing him to abstain from taking her every second of the day, which is why he dove so deeply into his work. He wanted to give her space and let her know that he respected her. He could never find the words to say these things, so he hoped his actions would speak for themselves.

He put two fingers under her chin and held her gaze. “Do you want to go upstairs to bed with me?” he asked, his cock throbbing in anticipation.

“Yes,” Harleen replied with a breathy moan that delighted every nerve of his body. They continued to kiss with Joker biting on her lower lip with his silver teeth.

“I’ll get the champagne,” Joker said.

“And I’ll get the TV,” Harleen countered as she turned to grab the remote. She mistakenly hit the button for the previous channel, which was the local news at midnight.

That’s when Harleen came face-to-face with her photo on the screen, causing her face to drain of its blood. She sat down in a daze.

“What’s wrong, Har—” Joker started and then looked at the TV.

The headline read “Doctor Kidnapped from Arkham by The Joker” as reporters discussed the fact that there were still no leads on finding the young doctor. Harleen sat in shock as the news played grainy clips of Joker grabbing her by the neck as they left the back door at Arkham and his goons drawing their weapons on her. Then they flashed to an interview of her mother and stepfather, both pleading with the Joker to set their daughter free.

Harleen had been in a mental fog for the whole week that she had spent with Joker. From the jailbreak, the incredible sex, the terrifying assault, the gifts of clothing and jewelry, the time spent relaxing in his amazing home, and getting to know the real Joker, Harleen had all but forgotten her real world obligations. She had forgotten about her apartment, her job, her family, her friends... When she was with Joker, she was more free than she had ever felt in her life.

But now her world was crashing down around her.

*****


	13. An Agonizing Choice

She looked up at Joker as hot tears stung her eyes.

“I didn’t even... I didn’t even think about this,” she said, her eyes glazed over as she looked back and stared through the TV screen. “They think you kidnapped me. They think I’m being held hostage or that you’re going to ask for a ransom. They think I could be dead.” The tears came barreling out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

Joker put the champagne bottle and two glasses back down on the end table and sat down next to her, grabbing a lock of her blonde hair and stroking it with this thumb.

She sniffed and wiped away an impending tear with the back of her hand. “I need to go back,” she said with a look of anguish. “I’m so sorry, but I have to make things right. For both of us.” She moved her body close to Joker and put her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. He entertained the thought of truly holding her hostage so she wouldn’t leave, but he couldn’t do that do her.

They made their way up to the third floor in an uncomfortable and complete silence. Harleen never knew Joker to be so reserved and reticent, but she knew him well enough to know that he was upset.

Joker _was_ upset. He was upset with himself to think that he could keep Harleen this long like his pet without any fallout. He had hoped that she would stay with him forever. She could work for him. He could use her brains for his empire. He would use her body to satisfy his long-repressed, deep urges for a physical connection. He had _finally_ found someone worth his time—worth his body—and he felt that he was going to lose her. He just wanted to kill everyone and set everything on fire. He wanted to make an excuse for Harleen to live with him forever.

Harleen grabbed her long-forgotten white jacket with her cell phone from the back of one of the plush lounge chairs in the room that they shared for a week, as if she were on vacation and now had to pack up and leave. She walked into the bathroom and looked at the toiletries on the counter that had been purchased for her, including her favorite perfume. She left them in place hoping that they would still be there after she returned from her temporary absence.

Joker stood in the doorway and watched everything unravel in front of him, partially cursing himself for becoming so emotionally invested in this woman. He pulled out his phone and texted Frost about the new development.

Harleen stepped into the red pumps she had brought with her after she decided to change back to her dark charcoal gray skirt and red blouse that she had worn to Arkham on Monday, just six days ago. However, she opted to keep wearing the underclothes and diamond jewelry that he had given her as they were the most intimate of the gifts. Now standing in the large closet, she wanted to cry looking at the clothing that he had bought her. She remembered how happy he was to move his own clothes out of the way in order to provide her a section for her newly acquired belongings. She turned off the light and approached Joker in the doorway with her white lab coat in hand.

“I’m so sorry, J, but I have to go back,” she said. “I need to go back.” She put her hand on the side of his face.

“Okay,” he said. His voice was crisp and emotionless and cut through Harleen like a million blades. “Let’s go.”

She followed him downstairs to the basement level and out into the parking lot. He motioned to her to get into the passenger side of a sleek black Mercedes with tinted windows.

They sat in silence the entire way as Joker drove her to his club. She didn’t quite understand the plan because he never uttered a single word, but she assumed that she would probably flag down a cab to take her to her apartment. She stared out the window at the highway signs flashing as they drove past. They finally reached the club and she followed him inside where Frost sat waiting at the bar with several of the Joker’s men. Joker leaned in and whispered something to Frost that Harleen could not hear. Frost nodded.

Frost got down from his stool and approached Harleen. “I’m going to take you to the other side of town and drop you off. I want you walk a few blocks and then hail a cab. It will be safe for you,” Frost told her.

Harleen saw Joker begin to leave the room and head to his inner office. “J!” she shouted as he continued walking. “J!” she yelled again and put her hand on Frost’s chest, pushing past him. “J, wait!” she yelled again as she finally caught up with him. He turned to face her, his cheeks flush with anger.

“J, please don’t be upset with me,” she pleaded with him, her tired eyes full of tears. “I have to go, but I will be back. I promise you.” She leaned up to kiss him softly on his tense lips, which did not respond to hers. She felt so defeated, knowing that she was causing him so much pain and distress, but she knew what she had to do. And she _would_ hold true to her promise to return, whether he believed it or not. “I’m sorry,” she said as she kissed his stationary lips a final time before turning to leave.

And that is when Joker felt his heart sink—the heart that he had convinced himself that he no longer had. The woman he could never admit he was in love with—barely even to himself, much less to her—walked out of his world. He entered his office and finished off the rest of a bottle of vodka from his liquor cabinet. Instead of spending the night ringing in the New Year under the covers of his bed with Harleen, he would drink himself into a stupor and fall asleep on his couch in his office. _Happy New Year,_ he thought to himself as he finished off the bottle and threw it against the wall with all of his strength, causing it to burst and scatter shards of glass all over the floor. _Happy Fucking New Year._

*****

Frost drove Harleen to a nice neighborhood on the other side of the city but one he knew would not have many street cameras. He handed her a pile of money and Harleen only later realized that it was well over a thousand dollars in fifties. She thanked him and kissed him on the cheek before getting out of the car.

“Doc?” Frost called to her before she stepped out.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Doc... Harleen... it’s gonna kill J if you don’t come back. Make sure you come back,” he turned his saddened, imploring eyes to hers.

“I will,” she promised him.

“Here,” he said, handing her a folded piece of paper. “Take this, too. That’s my personal cell phone. Call me or text me if you need anything. I mean _anything_ at all.” He became silent. “Just be careful... and remember what I told you. You mean a lot to him.” He reached out his hand and put it on her shoulder.

“Thanks, Jonny,” Harleen said as she reached up and placed her hand on his, “I know. He means a lot to me, too. But I have to do this.”

She stepped out of the vehicle and closed the door behind her as Frost drove away, worried that he would never see her again. Frost knew that as long as Harleen wasn’t in Joker’s life, things would be rough. Really rough. Probably worse than they were when he was in Arkham. Who knew what this would do to Joker? Who knew what kind of holy terror he would rain down on the next unsuspecting man? Frost knew his boss—his friend—well enough to know that this would not be good for him or anyone else for that matter.

Harleen walked several blocks in her high heels and finally reached a main thoroughfare where she knew she could easily catch a cab. Flagging one down, she gave the driver her address and he proceeded to drive her to her apartment, now around 30 minutes away. She tried to avoid his questions when he said that she looked familiar telling him that she must have one of those faces. She attempted to turn on her phone, but it had completely drained of its battery.

“Sir? Do you happen to have a phone charger that I could use?” she asked the driver. He handed her a choice of two cables, one of which luckily fit her phone. “Thank you so much,” she said as she plugged it in and turned it on. She had hundreds and hundreds of unread text messages, missed phone calls, and voicemails. Her heart sank and her stomach tied itself into a knot.

_Har, I saw on the news that there was an explosion at Arkham this a.m. Call me._

_Harleen, it’s Wayne. Are you at home or still at Arkham? Joker escaped._

_Hey, r u all right?_

_Where r u?_

_Please call me to let me know you’re okay._

_I’m really worried about you. I love you so much._

_Please text me!!!!_

_Did you make it out of Arkham???_

_Where are you? The police are at your apartment. No one can find you! Call me ASAP._

_The police are searching all of Joker’s last known hideouts. They can’t find you. I am praying that you are okay._

The text messages continued in the same vein for the week she was missing. Her mother, her stepfather, her brother, Vanessa, a ton of other friends including her ex-boyfriend Dexter, and her co-workers all had reached out to her hoping against hope that she was still alive. She didn’t know if she should text them back or what her next step should be. She decided to call 911.

“911, what is your emergency?” the dispatcher asked.

“Hi, my name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel and I wanted to report to the police that I am alive and I am heading home. I do not have keys to get into my apartment.”

There was a momentary silence on the line. “Dr. Quinzel,” the voice said, “everyone has been looking for you. It’s good to have you back. What is your address?”

Harleen repeated her address for the dispatcher a few times before hanging up, having been assured that there would be a police response when she arrived.

*****

The cab pulled into the parking lot for her apartment building and she got out, thanking the driver and giving him a nice tip from the pile of money that she had been given. She began to walk to her apartment and saw several police officers and what appeared to be detectives waiting for her on the sidewalk.

“Dr. Quinzel?” one of them called out to her. “Is that you? Boy, you are one lucky girl,” the attractive man remarked. “Let’s get you into your apartment so you can sit down. Can you answer a few questions for us?”

Harleen hesitantly shook her head yes.

“My name is Detective Walsh. I’m with the Major Case Squad at GCPD. Are you okay? Are you injured?”

“I’m okay, I’m not hurt,” she replied as her hand instinctively reached for the bruise on her neck.

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” he asked.

“My mom, can you call my mom?” she said.

“We sure can. What’s her number?” he pulled out his notepad from the inner pocket of his blazer and began to write it down as she spoke. The detective whistled loudly and yelled in his thick Gotham accent, “Daniels! C’mere, give this gal’s mom a call for us, will ya? Tell her she’s back home and she’s okay.”

“You got it,” Detective Daniels said as he took the paper.

After contacting the landlord, who was luckily still awake due to a New Year’s celebration, Harleen was let into her apartment. Detective Walsh offered to get her a drink of water, which she accepted.

“I’m here because my squad works on kidnapping cases,” he said, “It sounds like you have been through quite an ordeal.” He pulled his notepad out of his pocket again and began to jot down some notes. “Can you walk me through what happened the morning the Joker broke out of Arkham?”

Harleen explained that she had gone in early to get some paperwork done when she heard an explosion. She said that a scary man in a shark mask held her at gunpoint but she was able to escape. Then she told him that she tried to hide in the basement but Joker found her and he forced her to show him a way out, which she knew would be corroborated on the prison footage as she had seen on the news. She swallowed hard hoping that there was no footage showing the two of them either in the room or colluding to escape. She had remembered grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the stairwell from the sub-basement. Her heart rate quickened and her mouth went dry. It could mean criminal charges. It could mean the loss of her license. What if they found out that she brought in the gun? What if they worked it out? Her hands started to tremble and she nearly dropped her glass of water.

“It’s okay, doctor,” the detective reassured her, his voice calm and soothing. “It’s okay. Please tell me what happened after they drove you away. Give me any details that you can think of, anything you saw or smelled or heard. Anything.”

Harleen looked at the man, the whites of his eyes contrasted with his flawless dark skin. His brow was furrowed and she could tell that spent a lot of time worrying over his work as lines creased the entire way across his forehead. She knew he was doing his very best to get as much information as possible from her to help solve the case. Harleen explained that they covered her whole head with a black cloth but she could tell that they drove her into the city. It was probably a warehouse based on the walls and the floor, she explained, but she didn’t recognize it and she couldn’t see outside. She was kept in the same room for the whole week but she was very well taken care of, she told the detective. She conjured up an image in her head of what the room looked like and described it to him. She said that she was fed well and was given new clothes.

“So he kept you in a warehouse for a week. How did you escape? Did you see any street signs? Did you hear any people? Traffic? Buses? Anything like that? Was there no indication of where the warehouse was located?” the detective had begun interrogating her.

Harleen started to think up her lies right on the spot and hoped that she would remain consistent with them. “I... I couldn’t hear anything because there was always a noise, like a giant fan running in the ceiling. I think they drugged me or something because I remember being in the room and then waking up on a bench outside of the library on 256th Street. When I woke up... that’s when I flagged down a cab.”

“That’s up in Riverdale. Maybe his warehouse isn’t far... You said he gave you clothes. Where did the clothes come from?” Detective Walsh started on a new strategy of questions. Harleen realized her folly of giving out too much information and knew that they would try to track those sales back to the Joker for possible leads or even an address.  

“Oh, uh...” Harleen said, trying to either think of a lie or to come up with a smart diversion. “I really don’t remember. Michael Kors and Ralph Lauren, I think.”

“You’re not sure?” he asked almost incredulously. “What if I got a catalog for you for those brands, would you be able to pick out what was bought for you?”

“Yeah, I... I think so,” Harleen outright lied to the man trying to help her.

“What about the necklace that you’re wearing, is that yours?” he asked, peering at her neck with his dark eyes.

“Oh, yes, yes, this is mine,” she said reaching up to grasp her necklace not wanting it to be taken away from her as evidence. At this moment, it was one of the few tangible reminders that she had spent a whole week with Joker, that it wasn’t all a dream in her head.

“I’m surprised he and his men didn’t take it from you... They have a penchant for stealing fine jewelry.” Detective Walsh paused. “You have some bruising on your neck. Were you injured after you were taken to the warehouse?”

Harleen thought of the incident with Ziggy, how he choked her until she nearly passed out, how he slammed the hard object into her head causing her to black out. She wanted to scream out to the detective that she was assaulted but Joker had nothing to do with it. She wanted to scream out that Joker was gentle and kind and loving and that she loved him! She wanted to scream out that the horrible shark man had attempted to rape her and that Joker had _saved_ her.

“I... I...” she stuttered. “No, they didn’t really hurt me at all. This bruising must be from when J—Joker—grabbed my neck outside of Arkham.”

Detective Walsh began scribbling notes on his pad, making Harleen nervous. “Doctor... can you tell me... do you have _any_ idea—any idea _at all_ —as to how a machine gun got smuggled into the prison?”

Harleen sat in the chair in her living room and felt as if the walls were folding in on her. She shook her head no as her heart pounded so loudly in her chest that she was sure the detective could hear it. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice was hoarse and her mouth was dry despite having taken a drink of water. She thought of the men abusing Joker with the ECT. “Maybe one of the guards? I really don’t know.”

“Okay,” he said, “Listen, I know you went through a lot and must be tired. We called your mom and I was told that she and your...” he looked down at his paper wanting to get the name right, “...your stepdad Bob will be here soon.” He pulled out his business card and handed it to her. “We’ll have to have you come into the station at some point probably tomorrow to make an official statement, but I want you to call me as soon as possible if you remember anything else, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied. “Thank you.”

An inaudible squawk came over his walkie-talkie. He picked it up and answered it. “Your parents are here now. We’re going to have them come in. You call me if you need anything at all, you got it?”

Harleen shook her head yes as he heard a loud commotion in the hallway and loud footfalls.

“Harleen!” her mother yelled and embraced her daughter with tears running down her face. Harleen began to cry realizing the gravity of the situation and the pain she must have put her family and friends through.

“I’m so sorry, mom,” Harleen said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, honey. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” she said through exasperated sobs. “We’re here. I’m going to take care of you now. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

*****


	14. A Forced Confession

Harleen spent the next day being doted on by her mother and stepdad. They offered to make her anything her heart desired to eat or take her anywhere to get anything. Bob made some phone calls to a lawyer friend who agreed to take on Harleen’s case of bringing a suit against Arkham for a hostile work environment, which Harleen really did not want to follow through with but she let them discuss it.

She contacted her supervisor and the hospital’s chief administrator, Dr. Edwards, to let him know that she was okay and that she wanted to come into Arkham the next day to talk. She arrived to a strange scene of reconstruction at the asylum the following day when she approached the main gate that Joker’s men had blown up. There were beefed up security forces standing at the entrance with huge semi-automatic weapons. They insisted on searching her vehicle for bombs and weapons. It all was so serious and sobering. Harleen hoped that she could do what she came to do.

She was able to pass through security, who did in fact use the wand on her entire body even though she did not beep as she walked through the detector. Inside the asylum, some sections of the hallway and stairwells were roped off and plastic hung from the ceiling as work crews continued to correct the damage that Joker and his men had done. _And me too,_ Harleen thought. _I did this. I’m responsible_. She felt sick to her stomach.

There were very few smiles on faces and instead only looks of concern as her co-workers saw that she had returned. She received a surplus of hugs and words of sympathy as she made her way to her office. She stopped in and looked around. Her purse was gone from her desk, possibly being held by Dr. Edwards. The office was silent and cold as she thought about how many days and long nights she spent here, focused on her patients and their treatment. But, suddenly, it all meant nothing to her. Though so familiar, she felt like she was no longer part of this world.

“Harleen?” Dr. Edwards’ voice broke the dead silence of the room.

“Oh, Dr. Edwards, I’m glad you came,” Harleen said as her boss hugged her and patted her on the back.

Holding her by the shoulders, they separated and he looked at her face as if he were attempting to assess damage. While he rarely smiled, Harleen could sense emotion within his light blue eyes, as if he really cared for the young woman. His face was framed with a tidy gray beard while his normally stern features were softened and his brow lifted in concern.

Dr. Edwards spent the next several minutes interrogating Harleen about where she was taken, if she were hurt, how she escaped—just as everyone else in the whole world had been asking her.

After spending some time talking about her ordeal, in her modified-from-the-truth version, of course, she finally decided it was time to tell him about her decision.

“Wayne, I think I want to resign. I’m done with this,” she said to his face as it registered with shock.

“Harleen, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I just can’t do this anymore.” She wanted to tell him that she knew that he had some hand in having the guards administer ECT. She wanted to tell him that she knew he was complicit in this in some way. Joker had never told her about Ziggy stealing money from him, so she was not aware of that connection. However, she knew Edwards' motive must have been for professional reasons, at least on some level. _Put him back in the hole, it’s what society wants,_ she remembered him telling her not too long ago. Edwards would refuse to listen if she told him what her modified diagnosis now was—that he is sane, probably sociopathic, not psychopathic, and merely a product of our sick society.

“Okay,” Dr. Edwards capitulated without any protest. It was a little too easy, she thought, as if he was trying to get rid of her. “I have your purse and a few other things in my office. We can go get it and I’ll have you sign a paper. Then you’re free to go if that’s what you really want.”

After turning in her badge to Edwards and discussing her resignation a little more, she returned to her office to gather her things. She filled four boxes with books and the very few trinkets that she had kept at her desk and threw everything onto a handcart to be transported out to her car. Everything else in her office belonged to Arkham. She looked at the pile of file folders on her desk and paged through them, surprised to have found Joker’s file. She reached in and removed the Department of Corrections photo that was affixed to his intake sheet. She stuffed it deep within her purse and walked out of the building with it along with her boxes, never once looking back.

*****

After a long discussion with her mother—and a lot of prodding on her part—Harleen finally agreed that she would go stay with them. She thought it would do her some good to take a step back and get her bearings. She needed time to think.

She visited the police station and gave her statement, albeit against her will, unbeknownst to the detectives. The sadness and anxiety she felt over having to leave Joker easily parlayed into the appropriate emotions for a kidnapping victim: severe grief, melancholy, despondency... The sympathetic police saw her as a helpless victim subjected to the merciless actions of a psychopath like the Joker. And if she had spent long enough with them, listening to how awful the man was and all of the terrible things he had done, she might have convinced herself that she _was_ a victim. But she recognized that she acted on her own volition. Joker never forced her hand. She had fallen in lust—in _love_ —with her patient and she would have done anything for him.

Harleen spent the next few weeks with her mom and stepdad in their spacious brick home in Brooklyn. The normalcy of life began to take shape again as Harleen realized that she felt more restricted being “normal” than she ever had when she was with Joker. His riches notwithstanding, Harleen definitely felt a freedom when she was with him. She was beginning to understand what he meant when he said that being normal was “over-rated.” Society was the prison with its rules and restrictions, and its poison affected everyone’s freedom in ways that they didn’t even realize. But she did her best to adjust to her regular life and took solace in the fact that she had a good support system in her family and friends.

She spent her days painting, reading, exercising, and thinking about what she would like to do for the rest of her life. If she were to stay with Joker, she would have to have an idea of what she wanted to do. She didn’t spend eight years in higher education just to lie sexily on Joker’s couch in a skimpy outfit trying to get his attention as he was neck deep in his business. She smiled at the thought. But the smile faded as she gave serious attention to her future. Would they get married? Would they have kids? Would she be a housewife and mother? Would that even be possible? She couldn’t quite see Joker as the father figure.

She bit her lower lip as she mulled over the thought while looking out the window of the house she spent much of her later teenage years in. She thought about his young picture—when he was normal and happy, when he was betrothed to his Jessica, when he was expecting a child, when people called him Jack. She wondered what their relationship was like. Was he a normal person? Would she notice any similarities in thinking between Jack and Joker? Would he have been a good father to his child? Was he going to have a son or a daughter? Does he remember those times very well or were they somehow erased after his brush with death?

Harleen sat for a long while gazing out at the children and cars moving along the street. She missed Joker immensely but felt it just wasn’t time to go back. She wanted to prove to her parents that she was okay, yet she had no game plan. Once she returned to Joker, how would she explain to her parents that she no longer lived in her apartment? How often would she get to see them—to see her friends? Was a life of vicarious crime the life that she wanted? What would she do? Would she be able to keep a regular job? How would she share her newfound love with her family and friends? It’s not like she could post vacation pictures of the two of them on social media... She was scared when she thought about how her life would change if she returned to live with Joker permanently.

But one thought was always primary in her mind: She loved Joker. Despite his, at times, _difficult_ personality, she felt that he treated her as an equal. She knew he loved her back. She could tell and even Frost let on to it. She also knew that it would take him a long time to admit it. She knew her affection for him was more than simple lust. Yes, he did ignite a fire within her that she never knew could be lit, she realized, but she also cared deeply for him. She didn’t ever want to see him get hurt. Not again.

Her eyes welled up in tears as she realized how deeply she must have hurt him when she told him she needed to leave. It had been over two weeks since she had left and she could only wonder what he must be up to. She didn’t have his phone number to call. _Maybe I should text Frost_ , she thought to herself but decided to wait. She would wait until she had a few things worked out on her end. She needed to be in the right mindset before reaching out to Frost.

*****

The next day, she was anticipating a phone call from her lawyer when her phone rang. The Caller ID said “Private New York” with no number attached to it. She decided to answer in case it was her lawyer.

“Hello?” she said into phone. There was no answer, though she thought she could hear someone breathing. She waited a few seconds as she listened.

“Hello? Who is this?” she asked again. There was a noise on the other line like the caller’s phone was physically dropped on the floor. Then it disconnected.

She wondered if it were Joker. She _wished_ it were Joker. Her heart ached as it did constantly. She wanted so desperately to find his mansion, break into the grounds, and climb up to the back balcony to wait for him. She pulled open her maps program on her phone and tried to pinpoint exactly where his estate was based on the car ride on her last night with him. She couldn’t quite get her location correct because she was in such an anxious state when she was driving to and away from his home, so she never noticed any street signs. She also never found out what the name of his nonprofit was or what the bronze placard said at his gates. She remembered all of the water that she had seen and recalled wondering if she were on an island. She spent several minutes looking up and down Long Island Sound until she found a peninsula—with a single, huge house and grounds that extended far beyond what Harleen had seen. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized it as being Joker’s mansion. It was designated as the _Joseph Carr Wildlife Sanctuary_ , which made her smile to think that he still had at least one connection to his former life.

_Joseph Carr... Joe Carr... Joker..._

“Oh, my god,” Harleen blurted as she laughed out loud. Here he was hiding in plain sight practically telling everyone where he was located. She sat back and smiled, loving his sardonic sense of humor and constant mocking of society’s lack of intelligence.

Her phone rang again a few minutes later—this time it was her lawyer, Ron Tattaglia.

“I’ve set up a meeting with the Board of Directors at Arkham, Dr. Quinzel. I know it’s short notice, but will you be available at noon tomorrow?” he asked.

Harleen agreed but was nervous with the fact that she was proceeding with suit against Arkham for dangerous workplace conditions. She just wanted it all to be over.

*****

The meeting at Arkham proceeded better than Harleen could have expected. Dr. Edwards, also a board member, was in attendance but was quiet most of the time except to interject that he _knew_ that the Joker was incorrigible and could not be controlled. He knew that this would happen but no one would listen to him, including Dr. Quinzel.

Harleen sat with her eyebrows furrowed as she listened to the men and women yell about the atrocities the Joker had caused and what they should have done to prevent it. _They shouldn’t have put Joker on my caseload,_ she thought to herself dryly. _That probably would have prevented it._

Eventually her lawyer drew up a figure and handed it to the chair of the board.

“That is her requested severance if you agree to settle out of court. Three years of her salary plus additional fees,” Tattaglia said as Harleen looked up at him.

 _Three years?_ she thought to herself, dumbfounded. _That’s over three hundred thousand dollars._ While it sounded like a lot of money—and it was—her salary was that amount because of all of the hazards implicit in her job. _Like living through a jailbreak and being kidnapped_... she thought.

The chairman looked at the paper with his poker face. He turned to the asylum’s legal counsel and Dr. Edwards. After some quiet discussion, they nodded.

“We agree to settle for this amount, but we will need Dr. Quinzel to sign an indemnity agreement and several other forms,” the man informed her lawyer.

Harleen shook her head that she would. She felt that a large weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Her relationship with Arkham was over for good.

“Harleen?” Dr. Edwards called to her as she was leaving the meeting. She stopped and turned toward him. “Harleen, I’m sorry I said those things earlier. I just... I just feel responsible for this turn of events. I never wanted you to leave Arkham.”

“It’s okay, Wayne. It really is,” she assured him.

“I wanted to let you know that they figured out the person they believe brought in the gun to the Joker. It was Winston.”

Harleen’s face began to drain of its blood as her heart beat faster. “How—how do they know?”

“I guess detectives followed up on your suggestion that it could be a guard. They found that Winston had just purchased a few big ticket items—a new TV, computer, motorcycle, and some other stuff. He couldn’t explain where he got the means to purchase these things. So when the detectives found that he purchased them in cash, they put two and two together.”

Harleen looked at him slightly confused. “What do you mean?”

“Harleen, Winston was paid off by the Joker’s men to smuggle in a gun. Arkham let him go. We could never prove that he brought in the gun, but he was the head guard and responsible for the actions of the others, so...”

“I see,” Harleen said, her voice slightly quavering. “I guess you never truly know the people you work with every day.”

“No, you never do,” Edwards responded ominously.

*****


	15. A Tormented Mind

Joker spent the weeks of Harleen’s absence attempting to focus on his business but was often distracted by alcohol, which induced fits of rage. Frost did everything that he could to keep his men away from Joker when he knew he was having a bad day, which seemed to be every day. He often saw Joker look at his phone as if he were about to call someone—Harleen maybe—but change his mind.

Joker found that he could no longer sleep comfortably in his bed. No matter where he rolled, he could smell the scent of her sweet perfume. Sometimes he would spray a little bit of the bottle she had left in the bathroom just to remind himself that she _was_ real and not a figment of his imagination. And sometimes he would become so angry—with himself, maybe with Harleen—that he wanted to slam the glass bottle against the mirror.

One sleepless night just days after Harleen had left, Joker laid in his bed looking at the ceiling. He was brain was full of a mixture of anger, self-loathing, and lust. He and Harleen had only had sex once, despite both of their good intentions. After the incident with Ziggy, he want to give her space, but it was so hard for him. Instead, he had tried to distract his mind by delving into his business, which, looking back, he realized was probably not helpful to Harleen’s mental state. He found other ways to distract himself from his deep desire to take her sexually during her week-long stay, which included pleasuring himself every night in the bathroom after holding her as she fell asleep. It never compared to the pleasure that she had given him—the ecstasy that he craved with every fiber of his being. He thought about New Year’s Eve and how he wanted to consume her with a fiery passion. To have that potential—that promise even—only to be taken away immediately was hard for him to deal with. He laid in bed dreaming that she was next to him, that she had never left, that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Reality sunk in and he sat up in bed, yelling and throwing a pillow across the room.

He got up and walked over to one of the huge guest rooms down the long hallway. He stood and looked around the room, not sure if he had stepped foot in it since purchasing the estate many years ago. He grabbed a tall floor lamp and took his anger out on a dresser by beating it as hard as he could, causing the metal lamp stand to create huge gouges in the wood. He kicked chairs over and ripped paintings from the wall. He grabbed a beautiful ceramic vase and threw it against the giant mirror over a vanity, causing everything to crash down. He grabbed an end table and began to smash it on the ground, breaking it into bits and then throwing broken pieces around the room. In a state of rage, he pushed the heavy wooden dresser over, causing a loud thud on floor. He pulled the covers off the bed and threw them to the floor and then picked up the bed frame with the mattress and flipped them over onto the ground. He looked around the completely trashed room and realized that it had only made him feel nominally better. He sat down on top of the bed sheets and comforter that he had thrown on the floor and then leaned back onto the pillows. He was tired. Tired of his life, tired of having things taken from him, tired of having his men betray him...

His nose no longer swimming in her scent, Joker closed his eyes on the uncomfortable floor and fell asleep.

*****

It was a cold day at Club Aura as Joker sat at his desk two weeks later and poured his fifth glass of rum. He was attempting to drown himself in his sorrows. He knew it and Frost knew it.

Frost tried his very best to keep Joker abreast of developments. He had found evidence that Arlo and Rocky were also complicit in embezzling money from the account they managed with Ziggy. Frost brought this information to Joker, who sat and stared through the bearded man in a suit as if he didn’t recognize him.

“J, come on,” Frost pleaded with him, “you look like shit. I need your head back in the game.” Frost sat down on one of the leather couches. No one else in the world could have told Joker something like that and would have gotten away with it. Joker would have most certainly beaten their skull in with the nearest object at hand.

“What, Jonny? What do you want from me?” Joker said with annoyance in his voice, slightly slurring his speech.

“J. We need to do something about Arlo and Rocky. I know we’ve been sitting on this for a few weeks now. Who knows what they’re planning?” Frost asked, looking concerned yet dead serious.

“Where are they? Are they here?” Joker asked.

“Arlo is in the back playing cards. I don’t know where Rocky is. I can text him. You want me to grab Arlo and bring him to you?”

“Yes,” Joker replied as he stood up from his chair and stumbled, the liquor having an effect on him. He turned to the hidden wall behind his desk and removed a shining silver handgun, tucking it in his pants behind his back. “Bring him in. We have some things to talk about.”

Minutes later, Frost returned with Arlo, having told him that Joker needed to talk to him about taking on another account. Arlo stood in the middle of the room as Joker paced around him and Frost stood by the door. Suddenly, Joker attacked Arlo from behind and securely placed his arm around his neck and squeezed.

“I know the shit you and Zig got into, Arlo,” Joker seethed into Arlo’s ear, his breath heavy with the smell of alcohol. “I know that you’ve been stealing from me. Stealing _my money_.” He locked his arm around Arlo’s neck even tighter. “Is there anything that you want to say to me? Maybe I’ll spare your life.”

Arlo’s hands were pawing at Joker’s strong arm as his face grew red and his eyes bulged.

“Ed—Ed—Edwards—” Arlo attempted to get out.

“Edwards? Who the fuck is Edwards?” Joker asked, his grip still strong as steel.

“Z-Z-Zig met w-with a g-g-guy named E-Edwards. At A-Arkham,” he tried desperately to speak as Joker continued to compress his neck.

“Are you saying that Ziggy was paying off _Edwards?”_ Joker asked incredulously. He looked over at Frost and back to Arlo’s ear. “You know, you paid that fucker to torture me when I was inside. I should return you the favor, but I don’t have the patience.”

He then twisted and jerked Arlo’s head so hard that his neck snapped. His lifeless body fell to the floor as Joker released his grip. Joker threw his head back and laughed maniacally.

“That felt good... We’ll need to get rid of the body,” Joker said to Frost who shook his head in agreement. “Wait, let’s take him to the back and show the rest of the men what happens to traitors!” Joker grabbed Arlo’s hands and began to slide his dead body toward the hallway with his private bathroom, which led to a second, secured entrance to his office.

Suddenly, Frost received a phone call. “It’s Rocky,” he said after hanging up. “He’s pulling up right now. I’ll bring him in.”

“Oh, goody,” Joker slurred as he kicked Arlo’s body.

It was still daylight as Rocky walked into the front door of the club and was immediately greeted by Frost, his pink face very serious. Rocky never liked Frost and didn’t think he should have taken over while Joker was in Arkham. He had always envisioned Ziggy running the show with him and Arlo as his two right-hand men. He cautiously walked in front of Frost in the empty club as he had been instructed to head to Joker’s office.

As they neared the doorway, Rocky reached for the gun he had tucked in his pants, ensuring that it remained in place. A trained fighter, he then turned and—catching him by surprise—gave Frost a hard uppercut and punched him twice in the face. Rocky then kicked him in the stomach, propelling him back nearly 10 feet and knocking him out as he crashed against a table.

Rocky burst into the room and pulled out his gun, shooting at Joker. The bullets scattered all over the room with bright flashes emanating from the metal in his hand.

“You fucking _fuck!”_ Joker yelled out as he realized he had been shot in his left shoulder. His response time was slow as Rocky dropped his gun and laid into him, punching Joker in the face as he stood bent over in front of his desk. Blood began to stream down from his nose to his chin as the man attempted to pummel Joker into oblivion. Full of a drunken rage, Joker summoned all of his strength to return the punches with his good arm, bloodying his hand in the process.

He threw Rocky to the floor and sat on top of him, his punches severe as he let loose on his former trusted associate. While Rocky was trained fighter, Joker was fueled by the frustrations of the past few weeks. With each punch, he thought about how Harleen had left him, about how his men had betrayed him, about how he spent too much time in that god damned prison. His blows were landing hard on the man’s face as he laid supine beneath Joker.

Joker pulled his gun out of his waistband and held it under Rocky’s chin.

“Why did you do it?” Joker asked as he pushed the gun deeper into his neck. “I know about Edwards and the guards. I how you stole money to pay them off and keep me in there.”

Rocky looked at Joker, whose mouth was pulled into a silver snarl and his green hair falling into his face.

“ _Fuck... You..._ ” Rocky responded as he reached for Joker’s gun and attempted to wrestle it from his hand. “You’re a joke. You know why? Hmm?”

“Why’s that?” Joker asked, his voice tense as the pair struggled.

“Because you think you’re high and mighty with your new schemes. That’s not what we’re about. We’re out to rob. We’re out to kill. I’m no good behind a computer screen or making deals with business partners like _fucking pussies_. That’s not me. This whole thing is a joke.”

“Oh, is that so?” Joker said, the gun almost wrested from his grip by Rocky.

“Yeah. Even your ‘ _queen’_ can’t stick around. Maybe she realized what a loser you are,” Rocky used his words to twist a dagger in Joker’s heart.

Rocky mustered his strength and punched Joker in the face as he rolled him onto his back. It was a hard hit, causing a gash to open on his cheekbone and ooze blood. Meanwhile, Rocky had managed to grab the gun from Joker's hands and hold it to his forehead as he now had the drunken man pinned on the floor.

“Do it, do it, do it, do it,” Joker commanded the man. He didn’t care if he lived or died. He wanted to finally be set free from the shackles of his earthly body. He had no reason to live.

Suddenly, Rocky’s head exploded in front of Joker and he fell to the floor at his side with a thump. Joker twisted his head back to see Frost standing in the doorway with his gun, holding his jaw and leaning over. He saw that a pool of blood had begun to form on the floor as his shoulder had begun to bleed profusely, aided by the effects of alcohol which only helped to increase his blood flow.

“J, your shoulder,” Frost said as he tried to keep his eyes open.

Joker looked down in a delirium at his gray shirt, now spoiled and discolored by the blood that was flowing from his wound. He pushed Rocky’s body to the side as he sat up and reached for the phone on his desk behind him with a bloody hand. He dialed Harleen’s number—the number that he had memorized when she wrote it on the whiteboard in the infirmary. He could never forget the digits emblazoned in his mind.

It rang and she answered. His heart skipped a beat.

“Hello?” he heard her beautiful voice say and he couldn’t help but exhale at the sound of it. He wanted to tell her that he needed her desperately. He needed her soothing touch. He needed her to take care of him.

“Hello? Who is this?” he heard her ask again. It was so good to hear her voice. Just as he was about to say something, the phone slipped from his slick, blood-covered hand and onto the floor. He looked down at it helplessly and pressed the screen with an unsteady finger to disconnect the call. Then he fell back onto the floor and slipped away into darkness.

*****


	16. A Yearning Heart

Two weeks passed and Harleen had finally received a call from her lawyer that the severance payment would be deposited within a month, which she couldn’t believe happened so quickly. Tattaglia explained to her that the asylum was expecting a large insurance settlement themselves and they wanted to settle everything as fast as humanly possible. Her indemnity paperwork prevented her from suing the asylum even further in the courts or even saying anything negative about her work conditions to the press. “We should have asked for more money,” she heard her lawyer tell her as she sat in a daze, realizing that it was all over.

Since she left Joker, time seemed to drag on forever, her mind continually occupied with thoughts of him. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into a month. Harleen had enjoyed the past month staying with her parents—she enjoyed spending time with them and staying in her old room while being reminded of what seemed like ancient memories from high school and college. She hung out with some old friends, she went shopping and bought some sexy dresses and lingerie, and she spent a lot of time painting and reading. But there was always an emptiness to her days that could only be filled by one person: Joker. She had spent more than two months meeting with him every other day, talking with him, learning the labyrinth of his unique personality. And now she missed him. She missed his touch. She missed his laugh. She missed his carefree attitude. It had been so long that she wondered if their relationship—the kissing, the touching, the sex in the asylum, the angst during her week with him—had actually occurred. He was like a drug to her and she was in a deep withdrawal.

The cold winter wind whipped the outside of the house as she relaxed in bed reading a book after breakfast. But she couldn’t concentrate. She could never concentrate. She still couldn’t figure out what to do. Could she stay in her apartment and live with Joker part-time? No, she knew she couldn’t do that. Could she possibly tell _anyone_ how she loved him, how he saved her? No, she could never tell anyone.

 _What kind of life is this?_ she closed her book as she asked herself, her head aching from the thought. How she could maintain a relationship with Joker while also with her friends and family seemed completely impossible. She couldn’t just shack up with a gangster... a mobster. _How do mobster’s wives deal with this?_ she wondered. _Well, they don’t get into relationships with guys who have conspicuous green hair and pale skin..._

She just didn’t know how to think. On one hand, she just wished the whole world would crumble so she could spend her life with Joker, no questions asked. On the other, she feared that she was completely crazy for falling for someone like him.

She thought about what Frost had told her. _It’s going to kill J if you don’t come back... You mean a lot to him._ She wondered how Joker was faring in her absence. Did he miss her? Did he think about her often? She thought about the pleasure that he had given her body, the warmth of his embrace, the softness in his lips... Her abdomen ached with a growing fire as she continued to think about his naked body on hers and the things she wanted to do to him. Just the thought of him made her skin hot. How she wished he would appear in her doorway and just take her away.

She rolled over onto her stomach and pushed her face into her pillows. _I just need to get away,_ she thought. _I just want to leave this place, get out of here._ Suddenly, she was struck with an idea. _What if I tell my family that I’m going on an extended vacation? I’ll have enough money soon to make it sound feasible._ Harleen pondered the thought for a while. She liked the idea of going on a long vacation—especially on her own with no one else, just so she could clear her head. It would be a temporary fix, but it would allow her to spend some time with Joker while she worked out a new plan. Her parents had been a little overprotective since she returned, but she knew that they would not be able to prevent her from going. She certainly wasn’t a kid anymore.

Harleen grabbed her phone and stared at it. She knew it was time to contact Frost and tell him that she would be back.

 _Frost, it’s Harleen, I figured out way to come back,_ she texted him. She put her phone down not expecting a response and attempted to get back into the book she was reading.

Within one minute, Frost had texted back, much to Harleen’s delight.

_H, J needs u. He’s been shot._

Harleen sat straight up in bed, the blood drained from her face. Her fingers trembling, she started to respond via text but knew it was futile to type. She pressed the button to call him.

“Frost,” she said as she heard the familiar sound of his voice, “what do you mean J’s been shot?? Is he okay?? Where was he shot?? Oh, my God! How did he get shot??” Her voice was shrill and filled with panic.

“Doc, listen, he’s okay. He was shot in the shoulder about two weeks ago. It went straight through. It nicked his bone and he lost a lot of blood. But the surgeon fixed him up real good and he’ll be in a sling for a few weeks. He’s, uh, he’s pretty much living on pain meds... and alcohol... He’s okay, but he’s not okay,” Frost tried to explain. “He needs you. He won’t admit it, but he does.”

“O-Okay...” Harleen said, her voice crackled though the phone. “So... okay.” She didn’t know what to say in her shock. “Frost,” she resumed, “I want to come back. I have an idea.”

“Harleen, whatever it is, I need you to come back right away. Just come to the club. Can you be here today?”

Harleen thought for a moment, her stomach anxious and quavering, as if she were going to be sick. She wasn’t expecting to leave today, but she would do anything for Joker.

“Yes, I will be there tonight.”

*****

Harleen went downstairs to the office that her mom and stepdad shared as they both worked on their respective businesses. She did her best to calm herself down after her conversation with Frost so she could explain her plan to her parents with a cool and composed tone.

She explained that she was going to do some traveling as she had always wanted to do but was never really afforded the opportunity between undergrad and grad school before heading straight into working.

“I was looking at a map and I think I would like to go to Europe. I have some friends there that I can stay with. I already cleared it with them,” she said, realizing that she was becoming far more comfortable with lying than she had ever imagined she would.

Her mom and stepdad looked at each other and shook their heads in agreement knowing that they could not prevent their adult daughter from doing what she felt was necessary. At their insistence, Harleen agreed that she would keep them apprised of her travels from time to time. She told them that she was going to leave to go back to her apartment that morning and then start making arrangements to travel. She might not be reachable all the time, she reminded them.

After packing up and saying her goodbyes, Harleen jumped into a cab and headed back home. Her head was in a mixture of excitement and fear. She was excited to see Joker again and pick up where they had left off, but she was afraid that maybe he was too upset with her to want her back. She thought about how he must have felt getting shot and her not being there to help him heal. When he was her patient at Arkham, she felt the need to be his protector and keep him from harm. It tore her heart in two knowing that he was in pain and she wasn’t there for him. _Maybe the mysterious phone call a few weeks ago was from him_ , she thought. _Maybe he is still thinking of me._

She couldn’t help but think of the look on his face as she caught up to him in his club. It was a mixture of sadness and grief with anger and rage just below the surface. She replayed that moment a million times in her mind thinking of what she could have said or done differently. He didn’t even say goodbye. He didn’t even kiss her back. His face was expressionless except for the emotion in his eyes that betrayed his stoic face. She worried that she had lost him, that she was just a collateral benefit of his jailbreak and he could just as easily cleave her away from his life without any regard for the relationship that had blossomed between them.

She stared at her beautiful city as the cab drove through. Her thoughts again wandered to her relationship with Joker. She loved him. She _wanted_ to stay with him. But how would their actual relationship work? _What will my life be like? How would we do normal things like normal people? Can we go to a restaurant or the store? Would we be stuck in his mansion all the time? Would I be pulled vicariously into his criminal activities? I’m not a fighter!_ These were serious questions that Harleen had tumbling around in her mind now that she had had over a month to step away from the gravity of the situation. When she was at Arkham, she was intoxicated from the drug that was the Joker. She didn’t care how things would work out, she just knew they would somehow. Now she was full of worry. She always tended to over-think everything down to minor details, which is what made her so good at her job. But now she was no longer in control and was scared of what lay ahead in the future.

Arriving at her apartment, she began to do some cleaning and organizing. She had a pile of mail in her box and knew that she would have to set up a forwarding address somewhere if she were to leave for an extended period of time again. She started to feel better as she checked more to-do items off of her list. She called her landlord’s office to tell them that she would be away for a few months just in case there were any issues.

“Not a problem,” the assistant on the phone told her. “And thank you for making your rent payment.”

“Oh, I didn’t make a rent payment yet, I still need to send that into you,” Harleen said somewhat confused.

“Oh no,” the assistant replied, “you’re paid up until... it looks like the end of this year.”

Harleen finished her phone call taken aback by what the woman had told her. Joker was the only one who could have done that, especially since her apartment was certainly not cheap. She was touched at once by his thoughtfulness and by the fact that he had so much money that he could do basically whatever he wanted. _Maybe things won’t be so complicated with him,_ she thought to herself.

It was now evening and Harleen had packed her bags as she got herself ready to go to the club. She decided to wear one of the sexy dresses she had bought in Gotham City—a form fitting, slinky red dress that ended above her knees with a few embedded sparkling jewels in the fabric. She wore a lacy black bra and matching panties along with thigh-high stockings and a garter belt. She finished off the look with the diamond necklace and earrings that Joker had bought her along with a pretty silver bracelet. Her hair was curled and she was wearing a matching red lipstick. Harleen stepped in front of the mirror and posed. She looked like a supermodel and would most certainly catch Joker’s eye—along with every other man’s eye at the club.

“On second thought,” she said aloud as she examined her reflection, “let’s not wear panties...” She then unhooked and re-hooked her garter as she removed her panties and put them into her bag. She was ready to leave.

She grabbed two suitcases and a bag filled to the brim with clothing and other necessities for her to take to Joker’s home. She wasn’t sure how long she would be gone before she would come back to her apartment, so she wanted to make sure she had everything she needed for an extended stay.

She looked out the window and saw that her cab had arrived. She left her empty apartment with that ever-present mixture of anticipation and anxiety that pervaded her mind since her call to Frost that morning. She hopped in the cab and directed him to the block where Club Aura stood.

 _I’m on my way, b there in 40 mins,_ she texted Frost. She looked out the window at her pretty town certain that she was making the right choice to leave her life behind.

*****

Harleen gathered her bags and approached the front of the club in the darkness wearing her sexy red dress and high heels.

“Miss Harleen!” Teddy called to her with his deep voice as she came into view. “It’s been so long. How have you been?” He looked her entire body up and down. “You are lookin’ pretty tempting tonight!” He opened his two gigantic arms and pulled her comparatively tiny frame in for a bear hug.

“Hi Teddy, I’m good. It’s nice to see you again,” she said as she looked at the large man remembering her first encounter with him over a month ago when she came to pick up the gun. She learned after a few conversations with him that they called him Teddy because, despite appearances, he was just a big teddy bear inside. “Can you tell Frost that I’m here?”

“Sure thing, he’s been waiting for you,” Teddy responded as he led Harleen into the club. Frost was standing at the bar expecting her arrival.

“Hey doc,” Frost greeted her, “let me put these in J’s office for you. Follow me for a sec.” He took her bags from Teddy and led her into Joker’s office, turning to face her. “Listen, J might be drunk or drugged or both or not at all. I don’t know. I did tell him that you were coming, but I haven’t spoken to him directly today. He’s really withdrawn now, especially since he now has pain meds. I mean, like I said, he’s okay but he’s not okay.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “God, I’m really glad you’re back,” he said as he pulled her in for a hug.

“Me too,” she stated, wrapping her arms around him. “My stomach is in knots. I don’t know what to expect.”

“Don’t worry. I know he’ll be happy, as much as he _can_ be happy. He’s probably in the far back working, so I’ll put you in his booth.” Frost led her through the club to Joker’s private booth, the heads of every man turned as she walked by, some whistling and calling out her name.

Harleen sat down and waited, watching dancers through a gold beaded curtain on the club floor writhe their bodies against each other and on some of the men’s laps. Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm as a new song had started to play.

_I need a gangsta to love me better... than all the others do..._

The music was so loud and distracting that she did not realize that Joker had entered the room.

Joker stared at Harleen uncertain what to do. He wanted to simultaneously smash every object in the room and also fuck her. Frost had told him that she would be arriving, but he wasn’t sure if he could believe it. She looked more beautiful than she ever had before, her blonde hair acting as a perfect contrast to the red of her dress and her long smooth legs leading up to her hips, which he wanted to grab and thrust onto his.

Harleen jumped in her seat as she turned and saw the striking man with green hair standing across the room. She stood up and walked toward him, stopping several feet away and holding her hands in front of herself, her fingernails digging into her fingers as they linked into each other. He was wearing black pants and a white dress shirt as an undone bowtie hung lazily from his neck. His arm was in a black sling to protect his wound and a red leather shoulder holster holding a gun was wrapped around his back, which she had never seen him wear until this point. He was decked out in full Joker mode with his eyes covered in charcoal and his lips a dark red color. It was scary and dangerous, like the mug shot that she had stolen from his file... and she liked it.

“J, I missed you so much,” she said as she broke the silent tension between them. “I’m sorry I had to leave, but I had to make things right.” Her light green eyes began to fill with tears. “I wish I had known you were shot. I’m so sorry.”

_I want someone with secrets that nobody, nobody, nobody knows..._

She walked toward him as he continued to stare at her. She touched his arm in the sling and then put her hands on the side of his face, delicately tracing her fingers on his prominent cheekbones as if she were remembering their structure. She noticed that a new scar was now present on his perfect cheek and she inhaled sharply thinking about his violent lifestyle. She moved her hand to his green locks and pushed through with her nails as she knew he enjoyed so much, causing his nerves to explode.

Joker missed her touch immensely and he couldn’t believe that she had returned. He truly believed that she would be sucked back into reality and never come back to be with him. They stood together for several moments just looking into each other’s eyes as Harleen continued to run her fingers through his emerald hair.

Then, without saying any words, Joker pulled Harleen to him with his one good arm, his body hot in comparison to hers from being out in the cold. His right hand traveled down her back to her waist and then her buttocks where he squeezed and pushed her in even closer. Looking down at her lovely face as he held her close, he could feel his lower half twitch in anticipation. He knew that he must have her as he had wanted her so badly on New Year’s Eve.

He leaned in and kissed her with a deep, sensual kiss, his tongue dancing with hers as he tried to breathe her in. Harleen let out a soft moan as she clasped her hands around his neck and moved them up through his hair. Joker pulled her in even harder, his lips pushing on hers and his breath sucking as if she were his only source of oxygen. His delicious mouth tasted like a mixture of sweet alcohol and mint and she wanted to become inebriated on its juices.

_You got me hooked up on the feeling... You got me hanging from the ceiling... Got me up so high I’m barely breathing... So don’t let me, don’t let me, don’t let me, don’t let me go..._

The music continued to play as Harleen moaned into Joker’s mouth.

“Oh, J...” she whimpered as he sucked on and bit her lower lip. She had many sleepless nights over the past month thinking about how badly she needed to feel his body close to hers.

He then grabbed her by the waist and pushed her up against an open section of wall where he began to fondle her breasts with his good hand as his other remained strapped in his sling. Stopping momentarily, he stepped back with a devious look on his face and unclipped the strap, allowing him to toss it to the floor. Harleen reached up to undo more buttons on his shirt, which was already significantly open. Joker looked down to watch her work her fingers on his buttons as she pulled the bottom of his shirt out of his pants. He looked up at her, his electric blue eyes flashing with hunger. They had only ever had sex once—on a hard, tiled floor no less—and he desperately needed to feel that again. He spent many sleepless nights on the floor of his guest room trying to unsuccessfully purge her from his mind, just as he did when he was alone in his cell at Arkham. He couldn’t help but think about the curve of her body and the smoothness of her skin. She was his drug of choice and he needed another hit.

_I need a gangsta to love me better... than all the others do..._

Harleen then removed the gun holster from his shoulders and placed it on the seat next to her, careful not to brush it up against his injured shoulder. Putting her hands on his tattooed chest, she moved them upward and rounded his shoulders to push his shirt to the ground. She leaned in toward his shoulder, still covered with a large bandage, and kissed it as she reached her fingers into the top of his pants and tugged his body toward hers.  

She looked up into his eyes as he grabbed her with both hands around her hips. He pressed her against the wall, pushing his rock hard erection onto her pelvis while kissing her with such a fervor that she knew exactly what was on his mind. He grabbed her backside and pushed her into him even harder as if their bodies would somehow merge together. His pelvis rocked up and down against hers, their lips moving against each other’s while her hands eagerly grabbed his muscular biceps.

Joker had still not made a single noise except for a few breathy exhales on her lips, the sound of which caused her lower half to tingle and ache. He leaned in to kiss her neck and nip at her earlobe, giving him the opportunity to be reminded of her delicious flowery scent. The smell of her skin and hair made him even harder as he rocked against her and he knew he needed to be inside of her immediately. He needed to feel her body on his—her body enveloping him in its liquid warmth.   

He stepped back as his hands pinned Harleen to the wall at her shoulders, the area around her mouth covered in traces of their mutual red lipstick. Without saying a word, he grabbed Harleen by the hand and pulled her to the door he emerged from earlier, which led to an adjacent room. It was a secondary office where Joker could quietly have business discussions with visitors away from the pounding music on the club floor. He dead-bolted the door behind him as Harleen stepped into the darkened room, illuminated only by a few lamps adorned with gold. There was large desk with a laptop and a chair and several soft leather sofas.

Joker turned back to Harleen and began to kiss her roughly on the lips, wanting to consume her mouth and tongue. Finding the zipper on her back, he removed her dress to reveal Harleen in her lacy black bra, garter belt, and stockings. Joker’s chest heaved as he took in the sight of her naked lower half. He slowly reached down from her breasts to her mound and pushed his hand between her legs—with no protest from Harleen. He stiffened even more as he felt how wet she had become, his fingers reaching between her soft folds to find her clit.

Harleen gasped out in pleasure as his adroit fingers touched her exactly how she wanted to be touched. He pulled her in for a kiss with his injured arm as his good hand continued to attack her slick opening. Walking her backward, he forced her down on the edge of his empty desk where he leaned her back and opened her legs, placing them on his shoulders. Then she felt his amazingly soft and hot tongue on her most sensitive area as she had fantasized about so many times before but never experienced. His burning breath between her legs made her entire body shiver as he grabbed her thighs and pulled her body as close to his lips as possible. His flattened tongue felt like a red hot fire between her legs and she realized that her orgasm was imminent.

“ _Oh god, oh god_!” Harleen screamed as he began to suck on her fleshy pink bundle of nerves. Joker’s own body was coursing with blood and his shoulder wound was pulsating in pain with every beat of his heart.

Harleen felt the searing ache build and build between her legs as his wet mouth continued to suck and lick as hard as he could. Suddenly, Harleen threw her head back and moaned the sexiest, breathiest sound Joker had ever heard from a woman. She pushed her hips into his face and pulled his hair as she orgasmed, his head held hostage between her thighs. She had waited so long to feel his tongue between her legs and it was everything that she had hoped for. She yearned for more and more.

Joker stood up and wiped Harleen’s juices from his face with his fingertips as he looked down at her gorgeous naked body sprawled across his desk. He began to undo his belt and his pants as Harleen sat up on her elbows and watched. His cock was bulging through his boxers with a wet patch of his own juices.

Harleen sat up and slid off the edge of the desk, her shaking legs barely able to keep herself standing upright. Joker noticed and smiled with the knowledge that he did that to her. He grabbed her and pulled her to him as he backed up toward a sofa. Harleen reached her fingers under his waistband and pushed his boxers down, revealing his huge cock, its head completely engorged with blood. She realized that other than their sex in Arkham, she had never seen him fully naked and she wanted nothing more than to suck him as hard as he did to her.

Harleen began to kneel down but Joker pulled her back up by the chin without saying a word. Sitting down on the couch, his legs spread wide with his ankles held in place by his pants, he pulled Harleen on to his mostly naked body. He was hungry to be inside of her again and felt that he had waited so long. Too long.

She straddled his legs as he grabbed her hips and directed his throbbing cock to her wet entrance. He began to pull her down slowly onto his tip as Harleen could not help but cry out in pleasure. Finally, he was completely inside of her as she sat on top of him grinding her hips into his. This was a million times better than the sex they had in Arkham, he thought, and a million times better than anything he had imagined in his mind. Her warm depths enveloped him causing a high that was better than any drink or drug he had ever consumed. He removed her lacy bra, his lips finding her nipples and sucking as if her breasts would provide him with nourishment.

Harleen continued to gyrate her hips as she leaned in to kiss his lips, now nude from all of their activity. They stung her taste buds as she could taste her own perfume in his mouth. Her lips then moved to his cheek and ear where she sucked gently on his earlobe.

“Ohhh...” Joker made his first audible sound of the night in her ear as he pressed himself harder into her. Her mouth found his again and their lips crashed together. He stopped kissing and held his mouth held steady at her lips as his hands grabbed her hips and pushed them onto his own. He could feel his red-hot ache ready to combust into her. Then, without warning, Joker let out a breathy pant on Harleen’s open lips as the orgasm ripped through his body, burning with an intensity like he never felt before. He continued to pant feverishly into her mouth as an unending rapture flowed through him.

Finally, his hips stopped grinding into hers and his sweaty torso fell back against the couch in exhaustion, both continuing to gasp for air as they came down from their highs. Strands of green hair fell into his face which Harleen tucked behind his ear. Harleen, so close to ecstasy as she rode him, decided that she would have to wait for another time.

After a minute, Joker sat Harleen up as she still straddled him, his slightly engorged penis still throbbing inside of her as he came down from his orgasm. He caressed her face, now somewhat shiny with sweat, and finally opened his lips to speak.

“I’ve missed you,” he said in a gravelly voice, his cool blue eyes staring into hers.

Harleen pulled her face into the most beautiful smile as she felt that things were going to be okay. “I’ve missed you, too. So much.”

He pulled her body close to him as he leaned back against the couch, her breasts in perfect alignment with his mouth. He began to bite and suck on her nipples as she grabbed her breasts from both sides and pushed them into his face. The combination of her straddling him and him sucking zealously on her breasts was enough to send her to the edge. She began to slowly grind her hips against his as he pushed his upward on hers.

Harleen tilted her head back and couldn’t help but moan with each hitch of her breath, causing Joker to become deliriously aroused at her mouthwatering sounds. She could feel his previously exhausted penis begin to grow as it remained inside of her.

Soon, their bodies were again dancing in perfect harmony as she thrust her hips onto his, the head of his cock hitting a spot inside of her that caused an intense sensation within her abdomen. He continued to rock her hips on his in the same motion as her body melted on top of his. He noticed her breathing becoming more irregular and, no longer able to kiss him, she sat up straight and pushed her breasts into his face again. Then she was hit was a wave of ecstasy that would have caused her to fall backward off of his lap if he hadn’t been holding on to her so tightly. The sensation traveled from her mid-section to her feet and up through her fingertips, causing her to buck erratically on top of him.

“Oh, J... Oh, J!!” she screamed out as she finally came.

The sound of the gorgeous woman writhing and reaching the ultimate peak on his lap sent him over the edge again.

“Oh, Harley,” he moaned in a raspy whisper as he came inside of her again. They kissed as they rode out their pleasure together. The sound of his voice calling her name made her weak in the knees just as she hoped her sounds did for him.

They sat for a short time on the couch, their sweaty bodies practically glued to each other.

“Are you hungry?” Joker asked, always concerned for Harleen’s welfare.

“Very much so,” she responded with a smirk, still sitting on top of him.

“Then let’s go home. I have something special for you.” He smiled and kissed her on the lips before she got off of his lap. He grabbed some tissues from a cabinet so they could both clean up their fluids.

After putting on all of their clothes, the pair headed toward the front of the club and had Frost call for a driver. Frost shot Harleen a thankful smile as Joker talked to him about their plans to go home and not be disturbed.

After a few minutes, Joker’s man Milo pulled around in a black SUV and him helped to load Harleen’s bags at the front of the club on the street instead of their private parking entrance in the back. Joker almost always left out the back entrance, especially when he was not in disguise, as he did not want to risk being noticed. He couldn’t let anyone find out that he was connected to the club in any way. Though it was an area zoned mostly for industry, there were a few storefronts along the streets several blocks away, which did occasionally bring some traffic. But on this night, he was happy to have Harleen back in his life and the last thing on his mind was if someone recognized him.

He opened the door for Harleen and walked around the vehicle to get in the other side, his bright green hair flashing under the streetlights. He pulled her close to him as he informed Milo that he wanted to be taken home, and the trio drove away into the dark night.

*****

On the other side of the street halfway down the block sat a black BMW with a red-haired man seated inside watching the front of the club intently. He picked up his phone and dialed, the blue light slightly illuminating his face.

“Hey,” he said into the phone, “I found him and you’ll never believe who’s with him... Dr. Quinzel.”

There was a shocked silence on the other side. “Are you sure?” the voice said.

“I’m one hundred percent sure. I’d recognize those legs anywhere,” the red-haired man attested. An even longer silence followed.

“Winston, I need you to follow them. Tell me where they go,” the voice finally said.

“Okay, doc, I’m on it.”

Winston hung up the phone and sped away to follow the SUV to its destination. He was determined to help Dr. Edwards finish off the Joker no matter the collateral damage—even if it meant hurting Harleen.

*****


	17. An Unspeakable Betrayal

Dr. Wayne Edwards hung up the phone in deep deliberation over what he had just learned from Winston. _He could be wrong. Maybe it’s not Harleen._

He thought about her work ethic as his former employee. She was passionate about her work and she truly cared about her patients, sometimes giving them more credit than they should be given, he felt. He entrusted Joker’s case with her because he looked at Harleen as a young protégé—she had so much potential and so much to learn from him about the world of psychiatric rehabilitation. Dr. Edwards swore by the old methods and believed that he had seen enough patients to know when someone was a lost cause.

And, to him, Joker was a lost cause. He was patently insane. He had no regard for others. He was a psychopath on a crazy mission to bring down society. He had listened patiently when Harleen would talk to him about Joker’s progress—how she believed he was a sociopath, how his disregard for society was somewhat justified, how he was clearly _not_ insane or disconnected from reality. But Dr. Edwards never wanted to hear Harleen spew these spurious post-modern, neo-liberal diagnoses. He respected Harleen and saw her potential as he tried to course-correct her. She was very sharp and he eventually wanted her to take over his position at the asylum, but he completely disagreed with her on cases like this. He knew that Joker was a threat to society and he needed to be controlled, which is why he decided to work with one of his men.

A man named Ziggy had emailed him to tell him that he had an idea to make both of their “Joker Problems” go away. Dr. Edwards took a big risk, but agreed to meet him in a busy hotel lobby in mid-town Gotham.

He remembered that day in October, a few weeks after Arkham had received the Joker as its prisoner-patient. Ziggy approached Edwards sitting on a plush couch in the hotel’s lobby and sat down next to him, pushing his hand through his long greasy hair.

“I have one hundred with me like we talked about,” Ziggy said, slightly opening his leather jacket to show a thick envelope. He sneered at the doctor and squinted his nearly black eyes while revealing his gold teeth.

Edwards swallowed hard. “Okay, so we’ll do our part to make sure he gets the shock treatment. What do you gain from this? I thought you worked for the guy.”

“That’s immaterial. Except to say that the Joker might find someone else has taken his throne... if he were to ever get out,” Ziggy said, his voice sounding ominous. “Just don’t let him get out. Put him in your deepest hole and keep him there.”

“I... I can do that,” Edwards replied. He believed in keeping the Joker in solitary, but he would need to justify it when the case was audited—and he _knew_ that a high-profile case like the Joker would most certainly be audited. If he got better, they’d have to remove him from solitary and put him in the residential unit, which meant more privileges and benefits and better care. In solitary, you’re forgotten. The Joker could literally rot down there, as he had been now for weeks, and no one would care. This payment would help convince the guards to help Edwards use the electroshock treatment unethically. Edwards looked across the room at Keith Winston, his most trusted guard at the asylum, and nodded in his direction.

Meanwhile, Ziggy was looking at his two men, Arlo and Rocky, as they stood near some potted plants at the entrance. He pulled the envelope out of his jacket and placed it on the couch next to Edwards.

“Just keep him inside,” Ziggy reminded him as got up and walked away toward the revolving doors with Arlo and Rocky following him.

Edwards stood up and headed toward Winston who hopped off of his stool.

“I need you to follow those three men. Maybe it can provide us with a little... insurance,” Edwards told him as he showed him the orange envelope that now rested inside his suit jacket pocket.

“You got it,” Winston said as he rushed toward the doors on a mission to follow the men.

Ziggy and his men drove themselves straight to Club Aura on the far northern end of the city as Winston attempted to tail them in his blue Chevy Lumina. Weaving around double-parked cars and running a few red lights, Winston was able to keep pace with the black Lexus with tinted windows as it drove for about 30 minutes through heavy city traffic. Both cars exited the expressway and drove through an industrial area with lots of one- and two-story buildings surrounded by chain link fencing. Winston did his best to fall behind and nearly missed the car turning onto another street. It stopped in an alley next to a building with an unlit neon sign.

“Club Aura,” Winston said aloud as he had stopped his car at the edge of the block without following any further.

Completely unaware that he had been followed, Ziggy continued down the alley to a rear parking lot after dropping off his two men at the front of the club while Winston drove away.

*****

After Joker broke free from Arkham and then released a kidnapped Harleen almost a week later, Dr. Edwards felt a pang of guilt. He feared that this could have all been avoided had he taken the case away from her. He should never have allowed Harleen to remove Joker from solitary and taper his medications. He needed a reason to keep the man looking as insane as absolutely possible in order to justify keeping him in solitary. Edwards thought he would be the hero of the day when the news would break that Joker had committed suicide in prison—or at least that was his hope. His only other option was complete rehabilitation, which he knew was absolutely not possible. Even Harleen knew this as she had admitted to him during a case review, but she always gave the Joker far too much credit.

Weeks passed and there was still no word from Ziggy. He had promised Edwards another five hundred thousand dollars for the persistent torture of Joker, especially as they ramped up treatment to counteract Harleen’s seemingly successful medical plan. Despite the jailbreak, Ziggy was supposed to follow through on his promise. _And, if he doesn’t, then perhaps I can help him take down Joker in another way,_ Edwards thought to himself since Ziggy had made clear to him several months before that he wished to usurp Joker’s power.

After waiting for some of the fog to clear after the jailbreak, Edwards contacted Winston. “I need you to stake out that club where you saw Ziggy go. We need to see about that money. I know _you_ need to see about that money,” he told Winston, thinking about how he was let go from Arkham.

Winston was dealing with the aftermath of being let go from his job within two weeks of the jailbreak. The police and the board believed that he was the one responsible for bringing the machine gun in to Joker, which Winston vehemently denied. Neither Winston nor Edwards truly knew who could have done such a thing, and they never would have suspected Harleen. After the investigation—despite a lack of video evidence—Winston was still let go because he was the head guard and, if he hadn’t brought the gun in, then he was grossly incompetent and should have noticed one of the other guards or staff members bringing it in. It was the only explanation, the detectives and hospital investigators found. It was a devious seed planted by Harleen, a most sympathetic and innocent person—a victim in the whole scenario. Everyone believed Harleen and her story. Why would she lie? She was a professional caught up in a psychopath’s rampage. Edwards tried his best to defend Winston, but let up in the event that the authorities would look further into his involvement. Instead, he promised that he would help Winston financially by hiring him on as a private investigator and personal security guard as the dust settled.

Even as Edwards had reviewed the limited footage that he handed over to detectives, his mind saw what he wanted to see. He saw a masked man shoot at Harleen as she escaped to a stairwell. He saw Harleen make her way downstairs to the sub-basement. He then saw her try to run away from the Joker up the stairs and he tried to grab her by the hand as she attempted to escape from his clutches. He was sad that she had resigned from her position—she indeed had shown so much potential—but he was also somewhat relieved because she constantly challenged him and was somewhat of a loose cannon with her new-fangled rehabilitative ideas.

Edwards decided that it was time to send Winston on his way to the club to inquire about Ziggy and the money. He knew he was potentially walking into a dangerous situation since the Joker was free, but he didn’t care. Edwards knew the extra bit of money would help both of them out and Winston would be blinded by the fact that he would be financially compensated for his assistance.

On a wintry night at the beginning of February, Winston parked his car down the street and walked to the club in the dark. He approached a large black man standing at front as he opened the door allowing two giggling young women in skimpy dresses to pass through. Winston stopped on the sidewalk and looked up at the doorman.

“What do you want?” the man asked Winston, his voice bellowing through the crisp air.

“Hey, I was told to meet Ziggy here tonight. Is he here?” Winston asked.

“Da fuck you talking ‘bout?” Teddy asked. “Ziggy’s been dead a month, so I don’t know how you got your information.” He looked Winston up and down. “Stay right here,” he commanded as he walked in the club and motioned for Frost.

Winston took that moment to back up and run down the street to his car. What if the Joker were inside? Maybe this was the epicenter of the Joker’s business activities. Ziggy was now dead and the Joker was free. He didn’t want to risk meeting up with the man he had brutalized inside of Arkham since they were now on his own turf. He quietly got into his car, put his keys in the ignition, and drove away with his lights off.

“He’s in a blue Chevy sedan,” Frost said into his phone as he stepped onto the sidewalk, “Just see where he goes. If you think he’s onto you, just abort.”

Milo, driving a black Lexus, tailed Winston’s blue sedan as Frost had told him to. He followed the old car on the parkway heading north out of the city and took the exit at Briarcliff Manor. Milo followed him for a few turns after the exit but then decided to continue along a main road as Winston turned down a rural back road near a golf course never once noticing the car behind him. Milo hoped that this would be enough information to pass along to Frost.

*****

Winston drove to Dr. Edwards’ palatial home in Briarcliff Manor, set among a forest of trees. He followed the long driveway up to the house and was met by Edwards in the driveway.

“You idiot!” Edwards yelled at Winston as he slapped the hood of his car. “You could have been followed!”

“Well, I wasn’t!” Winston countered as he stepped out of the rusted vehicle. “No one followed me. I was watching.”

Edwards crossed his arms in front of his chest and scowled. “Well, what did you find out?”

Winston took a deep breath and leaned against his car. “Ziggy’s dead,” he told him. “I don’t think we’re gonna get our fuckin’ money.”

Edwards put his hand to his forehead and swept it through his balding hairline, looking down at his perfectly aligned brick driveway illuminated in the darkness by lamps along his walkway.

“It’s okay, actually. It’s okay,” Edwards said, convincing himself. “Ziggy is small potatoes. Who do we ultimately want?” He raised an eyebrow and looked at Winston. “The Joker.” Edwards paused and thought for a moment. “If that is Joker’s club, then he has to come and go, right?”

Winston shook his head up and down. “Are you saying I should stake it out and see if he comes and goes? Maybe follow him to his home? Then what?”

“Then, Winston,” Edwards explained, “then _we_ have the upper hand. No one knows where the Joker goes. He’s an enigma. He walks among us and we don’t even know. But he’s a real person and he’s gotta live somewhere. He’s probably the richest man in Gotham—richer than that Bruce Wayne, I bet. I guarantee you that he is not living in some warehouse somewhere or even at the club. I guarantee it... We at least have to try. And if we are in over our heads, then that’s when we call the cops. But I want a chance at that money.” He thought for a moment. “If there is a way that we can kidnap him and hold him hostage even... then we can blackmail his men for money. Just think of all of the money he must have to have so many people on payroll. He must have hundreds of millions of dollars, don’t you think?”

“Probably more than that. Probably billions,” Winston replied, rolling his eyes.

“Then I think it’s time we get our fair share.” Edwards turned and leaned against Winston’s car next to him, looking at his perfect brick house and manicured gardens in the cold air, his warm breath creating an ephemeral fog as he spoke. “This is a nice house,” he told Winston. “I love it. Just think of the house you could buy with Joker’s money. I could retire from that god-forsaken asylum. I hate it. I’m sick of helping these people that can’t be helped.” He looked up at Winston who shook his head in agreement.

“I’ll head back to Union Point tomorrow and just watch,” Winston told him. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and see Joker.”

“Good,” Edwards smiled at his success in manipulating Winston. He knew money would be a good motivator for the jobless man. “Here,” he said, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket, “take my Jag. No... No... better yet, take the BMW. They might recognize your car at this point.”

Winston’s eyes lit up as he took the keys and pulled the shiny black car out of one of four garage bays. He now understood why it was so important for Edwards to have more money. He had an addiction for nice things and needed to be able to sustain that lifestyle. Winston parked his own Chevy into the garage and drove away assuring Edwards that he would give him an update as soon as he learned anything.

*****


	18. A New Normal

As they drove away from the club, Joker held Harleen on his chest and she listened to his heartbeat. He finally felt that things would be set right. He had taken care of the three traitors in his midst and he made it very clear to the rest of his men that betrayal would not be tolerated. He reminded them that he knew every one of their secrets, where every loved one resides, works, and goes to school. He knew all of the right buttons to push and _he_ was in control.

And now he had Harleen. He couldn’t say that he felt _happy_ —he wasn’t sure if he could ever be happy again. The feeling of happiness was foreign to him. But he felt... better. He enjoyed her company even though they didn’t always talk much, but Harleen knew that he was not a man of many words. She knew he was a man of action, and he would sometimes go to great lengths to keep her near him. He thought about the gift that he had waiting for her at home and he kissed her head as it rested on his chest. Not yet putting his injured arm back in the sling, he reached his hand down to her thigh and moved it steadily toward the middle of her legs. His fingers stopped to trace along the tops of her pantyhose and the straps of her garter belt as he could feel himself becoming aroused. His heart began to beat faster, causing his shoulder to throb in pain.

Harleen sat up slightly, her face still near his and pulled him in for a kiss on his right cheek as he stared forward out the front window. She then began to bite and suck in his lower lip as her hand felt for his cock, which she could feel had become hard. She loved that she had that effect on him and she smiled as she felt its shape. Feeling her pause to smile, Joker turned and kissed Harleen, causing her to release a soft moan from her lips, which made his pulse quicken and his cock stretch against his pants. She wondered if they would even make it to his bed to continue their fun.

“Boss?” Milo called back to Joker.

“What is it?” Joker asked, his mouth still on her lips and his voice somewhat irritated at the interruption.

“I think the Beemer back there has been following us. I noticed him on the expressway trying to match my speed and he’s still with us.” Milo had since turned off the expressway and made a few other turns onto the back roads leading to Joker’s mansion. Being astute, he had decided to turn right instead of left on a main road, leading the BMW away from the mansion. The car continued to follow them.

“Slow down,” Joker told him. “I’ll have to take care of this myself.” He released his embrace of Harleen and grabbed his holster that he had placed on the floor, pulling the pearl-handled gun out. He smiled a silver grin at Harleen as his eyes flashed. “Anyone up for some fun?”

He rolled down the window and carefully held the gun close to the vehicle, aiming it at the BMW behind him as Milo began to slow down quickly. Joker fired several shots at the car behind him as it careened toward them, unable to compensate for Milo’s quick deceleration. Bullets flew from the gun with one hitting the driver’s side mirror and another hitting the center of the windshield, sending cracks throughout the pane of glass.

“Fuck!!” Winston screamed as the bullets hit Edwards’ car and zipped past his head. He slammed on the brakes as the SUV in front of him sped away. “FUCK!!!” he yelled again, punching the steering wheel with his fists. He could hear Joker’s tell-tale laughter in the distance as he rolled up the window.

“Who do you think that could have been?” Harleen asked.

“I have an idea, but we’ll talk about that later, okay?” Joker told her as Milo re-routed the vehicle to head in the correct direction on a different set of roads. “Let’s just go home first and then we can talk later.”

Her heart racing from the gunfire, she allowed Joker to pull her back onto his chest where he played with her hair and kissed her head.

 _I guess this isn’t so bad,_ she thought to herself. _I can do this. I can be a mob wife._

*****

The couple arrived at the mansion and headed to the elevators. Harleen could never get over the opulence of the home that Joker maintained. She chuckled to herself thinking how the police must believe that he lives in a dilapidated warehouse somewhere—an idea her false police report confirmed.

“What’s so funny, doll?” he asked as they walked down the hall stopping at the elevator.

“I... uh,” she laughed nervously, “I just can’t get over how beautiful this place is. I had to lie to the police and tell them that I was taken to a warehouse somewhere and they bought it. I don’t think they would have ever believed me had I told them you lived in a mansion with... with marble floors and granite fixtures.”

“Hm, that’s good thinkin’,” he said, looking into her eyes and pushing her hair behind her ear. “It’s always fun to send the police on a wild goose chase.” He went to press his thumb to the biometric scanner on the elevator and then paused. “Wait. Frost programmed your print in just before you left. Why don’t you try it?”

Harleen pressed her thumb on the scanner and a screen lit up allowing her to call the elevator. She turned to Joker and smiled. “So I’m official now?”

“You’re official now,” Joker responded as he pushed her backward against the frame around the elevator door. He held her head and kissed her ever so lightly on her lips. The elevator dinged and he stepped back, holding his arm out toward the open door. “Your carriage awaits, my lady,” he said.

With each minute that passed with Joker, Harleen’s heart felt lighter. Things were feeling right. The questions that tormented her mind during her month away seemed to vanish. She couldn’t even remember why she was so concerned. She was safe here. She was safe with Joker. He had guns and men and money and connections. Why did she ever think this couldn’t work? So her family and friends would never meet the love of her life... so what? She would deal with it. Normal was overrated after all.

Approaching the door to the bedroom, Joker pointed to the door across the hall. “Don’t go in there,” he stated, referring to the guest room that he had trashed. He never even allowed the maid clean it up, and it truly needed a good cleaning. There were empty liquor bottles and cans of soda all over the floor along with food wrappers, take-out boxes, random pieces of Harleen’s clothing, and used tissues, all of which he didn’t care for her to see.

Stopping at the door, he parked her suitcases in the hallway and pulled Harleen to his chest, giving her a small playful peck on her lips. “I have a surprise for you,” he said as he opened the door, allowing Harleen to walk in.

There were candles lit all around the room stationed on every surface along with several vases of the most gorgeous red roses. Crimson petals were strewn about the bed and the floor, the smell filling the air with the most delicious scent.

“Oh, it’s so lovely!” Harleen exclaimed to Joker as he stood leaning against the wall of the nook leading to the door. He watched her walk around the room touching the flowers and leaning in to smell them.

“Come with me,” Joker said, grabbing her hand and directing her to his closet. He opened the door and flicked on the lights allowing her to see that he had moved all of his belongings to the one side—providing her with more than just a small section as he had before. “I really didn’t have enough to fill both sides anyway, so it seemed like a waste...”

Hanging on Harleen’s side was all of the beautiful clothing that he had bought for her along with a many new pieces.

“Oh, my god, J. These are beautiful!” Harleen pulled a stunning, floor-length, green chiffon dress with spaghetti straps off the rack and held it up to herself. “I can’t even...” Harleen said, unable to finish her sentence. She went through each piece, looking back at Joker in increasing amazement each time—a fitted, knee-length aqua-colored dress with a wide black belt, a shimmering gold dress with a plunging neckline, a black sweetheart dress with a pleated bodice...

“And here are your drawers,” he said motioning to an entire side of the central island. “I even have a few things started for you.” He opened them to display the underclothing he had bought for her in addition to some sexy pieces of lingerie.

“J,” Harleen said, looking around, “I just don’t know what to say. Thank you.” She was touched and surprised by the sweet gesture and thoughtfulness. She knew he loved her and this was how he expressed it. For so long she had been told that he was a monster. But he was not a monster. He was misunderstood, she decided, but definitely not a monster—at least not to her.

Hanging the black dress back up that she had removed from the bar, she walked toward Joker, placing her hands on his exposed chest. She un-tucked his shirt, unbuttoned it, and pushed it off his shoulders.

“Mmmm,” she giggled as she kissed him, “this feels like déjà vu.”

Now half-naked, he pushed her up against the wall of clothing and kissed her hard. He moved his mouth down to her neck and shoulder and bit her with enough force to cause her to wince in pain but also to send shivers through her whole body. Her fingers found his belt and removed it as they continued to kiss. He pressed his hips against her leg and rocked up and down while the veins pulsed in his clenched jaw. Harleen undid his pants and pushed them to the floor. She looked down at the huge bulge in his blue boxers and ran her nails from his balls to his tip, eliciting a guttural moan.

She removed his boxers and pushed him onto the vanity bench near the entrance of the room. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes as Harleen got onto her knees and began to kiss his neck and chest, slowly making her way down his body. His cock was throbbing in anticipation as she finally took it in her hand and began to lick it, slowly and seductively rolling her tongue along the sides. She began to tease him by gently kissing and nipping the flanges of its head causing his body to soar into ecstasy. He looked down at her, eager for her to finally take his length in her mouth as she swirled her tongue around the tip. She grabbed his shaft and began to rhythmically stroke him as she took more inside of her mouth, her saliva beginning to cover his cock entirely, providing a perfect lubricant. His breath quickened and his pulse raced as she twisted her wet mouth around him in earnest. She looked up and smiled wickedly at him thinking about how she had imagined so many times doing just this.

“You know,” Harleen said, as she removed her mouth from his cock to speak, “I fantasized about doing this to you while you were in your straitjacket.” She resumed sucking on him.

“Did you now?” Joker responded somewhat breathlessly as if he were trying hard to control his words.

“Mmmm... hmmm...” Harleen replied, humming provocatively as she continued twisting her warm lips around his dick. “Mmmmmmm...” she continued as she felt his chest begin to rise and fall as he exhaled with more intensity. She looked up at him, his jaw clenched and his eyes now locked on hers. She paused for a moment and released him from the clutches of her mouth. She walked over to his tie rack and retrieved a bright purple tie, which she then proceeded to wrap around his arms crossed on his chest to simulate his old straitjacket. She continued to suck on him as he watched her with lust in his eyes.

The sight of her between his legs with her mouth around his most sensitive and sensual body part made him unable to contain himself. The thought of her fantasizing about him in their sessions turned him on to no end as he felt the familiar fire now threatening to burst into her mouth.

“Oh, Doctor Quinzel,” he panted, his voice coarse, “the things you do to me during our sessions... I just can’t take it.” He looked at her and smiled with one side of his lips, slightly raising his bound arms.

The reference to their sessions and calling her “doctor” only encouraged Harleen to stroke and suck with more urgency than before. She absorbed every sound he made from the sharp exhales to the stifled moans inhabiting his throat, causing her abdomen to yearn for his touch once again. She sucked harder and harder and moved her free hand up to touch his arms across his stomach.

He tried to free his arms from her make-shift straitjacket as he pleaded with her. “Don’t stop... Don’t stop... I’m gonna cum...”

A wave of pleasure coursed through his body as he stiffened in Harleen’s mouth.

“Harl—Harley...” he gasped as he fought to catch his breath, his whole body tensing in bliss as he released his fluid in her. She continued to suck the juices from his tip and swallowed every last drop while looking up at him. His green hair had fallen into his face and his head rested back against the wall with eyes closed. He sat for a few moments before looking at her breathing heavily as he came down from his high.

“If only...” Joker began to say and then paused to swallow. “If only you _had_ done that to me during one of our sessions... I would have never thought you had ordered the shock therapy.” He followed up with a chuckle to let her know that he meant no ill will about it.

Harleen gave a half-hearted smile as her heart dropped thinking about the tortuous pain he had gone through under her care.

“I’m sorry, puddin’,” she said, reminding him of his special dessert on Christmas Eve. She leaned up to kiss him on his lips and followed suit with his playful sense of humor, “But Arkham had a very clear no blowjob policy between doctors and patients.”

“So, does that mean you’re no longer my doctor?” he asked suggestively.

“Oh, I’m still you’re doctor, Mr. Joker,” she responded, his blue eyes widening at the name she used to call him. “And now I can have a session with you any time. You have no idea the things I want to do to you...”

“Mmm, I’m already looking forward to our next session, doc,” he joked as Harleen stood in front of him.

They spent the rest of the night continuing to explore each other’s bodies in harmonious rapture, ultimately falling asleep in his bed as the candles extinguished themselves in the early light of dawn.

*****

Joker and Harleen finally awoke close to noon, both somewhat sore from their marathon sex during the night. Harleen turned to face him realizing that he had already been awake and was staring at her.

“You watchin’ me while I sleep, hm?” she asked.

“Always,” he responded, causing her heart to flutter with joy.

She knew that it would take him a long time—if ever—for him to admit that he loved her. She hadn’t even told him out loud that she loved _him_ , but she knew she would when the time was right. _Maybe he’s waiting for the right time, too,_ she thought to herself.

“Let’s get some breakfast, er, lunch. What do you think?” he asked.

“I love the idea. What’s on the menu?”

“Anything you want.”

“Anything? Oh, really?” Harleen flashed him a tantalizing smile as she alluded to more sex.

“I said _anything_!” he chortled mischievously as he grabbed her and rolled her on top of him. He was really beginning to get used to their two bodies locked in a lover’s embrace like this one. She was so beautiful as she hovered over top of him, her long blonde hair falling all around her face.

Her stomach growled and he looked down chuckling. “I guess we better feed that thing,” he said as he grabbed her on the waist and tickled, sending her into peals of laughter as she rolled off of him attempting to get away from his hands.

They spent the next several days truly enjoying their time together. Joker always made her laugh, which she loved. Laughter is, of course, what he is known for and she expected nothing on the contrary. They ate, they swam, they worked out together—which always ended up in an inevitable make out session usually followed by sex and a shower. She changed his gauze and kissed his wound.

They even dined out, giving her the opportunity to wear her pretty green chiffon evening gown. They went to a restaurant that was reserved just for them as the owner was indebted to the Joker in some way. Harleen was finding that this was the case for most of the people he interacted with. Joker always seemed to have the upper hand on so many other people, to which he explained that there are lots of people out in the real world who have done very bad things and have never had to pay the price—except to him. They talked and laughed as they drank their wine and enjoyed the Italian dinner, which consisted of a sample of many delectable dishes. Harleen found that Joker was starting to become more and more comfortable with her and she really wanted to tell him that she loved him, but could never find the right time.

“J... can I ask you a question?” she asked as they were waiting for dessert.

“What, kitten? Anything.”

“Who is Bruno?” She looked up from the napkin on her lap to see Joker purse his lips and shake his head. “I... I’m sorry, I was just curious,” she tried to back-pedal her question. She recalled the night she first met Frost in the club when he gave her the gun. Saying the name “Bruno” was enough to make Frost believe that the Joker sent her and she had always wondered what the story was behind it.

“No, it’s okay,” he said, swirling his wine in his glass. “Bruno was Frost’s dog. A German Shepherd. It was a beautiful creature.”

“What happened to him?”

“I killed it,” he responded matter-of-factly, his pale face expressionless.

“Wh-Why did you kill it?”

He opened his mouth and pushed his tongue against his bottom teeth as the painful memories came rushing back.

“About four years ago, when we were into robbing every jewelry store on every Main Street in the five boroughs... we broke into this one joint. At that time, Frost liked to bring his dog along on our excursions to act as an alarm. Bruno was good at his job.” He paused to pour more wine into his goblet. “Well, this one joint had a few booby traps set up. I guess maybe they were expecting us or something. One of us tripped a high-tech security alarm by the likes we had never seen. Then, as we were inside clearing everything out, we heard sirens just a few blocks away. We headed out the back where I found Bruno, his back leg stuck in a huge bear trap. The trap was on a chain that was bolted to the wall and there was no way I could remove it. Believe me, I tried. Even if I had been able to shoot the chain and break it, the damn dog woulda died. Frost ran out just as I shot the dog in the head. I told him that we couldn’t just leave the dog there to die. I had to put it out of its misery. Frost... well, he was very cold to me for months.”

“I think I understand why,” Harleen stated.

“Well, it had lost a lot of blood as it laid there whimpering. I did it a favor,” Joker defended his actions as he scowled while looking at his wine glass.

“I believe you,” Harleen said softly, reaching her hand across the table to touch his. “You did what you had to do.”

Joker looked up at her and gave a half smile while shaking his head. He couldn’t understand why he needed her approval. He never needed anyone’s approval, not even Frost’s. But Harleen was different. For some reason, he wanted her to think highly of him. She knew he was a cold-blooded murderer, but she also seemed to understand that Joker always did things for a reason, even when the excuse was that his victims were automatons of society at-large.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, as the waiter approached the table with their dessert.

The next day back at the mansion, Harleen peeked into the guest room when Joker wasn’t looking because she was so curious to know what lay beyond the door. She stood at the entrance, her mouth agape. Every piece of furniture was broken—including the mirrors—and the mattress was leaning against the wall. Unbeknownst to her, he had been using it to punch in order to let off steam on those nights that he had strong desires for Harleen but couldn’t do anything about it. The floor was covered in garbage and a little pathway had been made from the door to the comforter on the floor. She didn’t know whether to cry out of sadness for his pain or smile knowing that she caused him such angst.

“I told you not to go in there,” he uttered, sneaking up behind her as she stood in the doorway.

“I’m sorry, J. Can I pretend that your house is too big and I accidentally walked into the wrong room?” she smiled at him sheepishly.

“No, doll. You’ve been here long enough to know better,” he said, pulling her close to him. Harleen wasn’t sure if he were joking or being serious or perhaps a mix thereof. She was always pretty good about reading people, but he consistently kept her on her toes.

“Listen, we need to talk,” he said ominously. He pulled her down the hall to his media room and sat next to her on a couch. “I never really told you the whole story about Ziggy and I think you should know.”

Harleen jumped at the sound of the man’s name and she pulled her legs under herself as if it would protect her from the memory of his assault.

“When I was at Arkham, Ziggy was apparently embezzling money out of a bank account he and two other guys of mine managed. He took out a hundred thousand and then five hundred thousand... These were payments... payments made to Dr. Edwards and the guards there,” he explained.

“Wait, payments for what?”

“Ziggy wanted to take control of my empire. He wanted to be me. He was even inked with the same god damn tattoos,” Joker growled. “He struck a deal somehow with Edwards to ensure that I got the electroshock treatment, probably to keep me fucked up so they could justify keeping me in solitary. Their goal was to kill me or force me to kill myself but to do it in a way that didn’t look like _they_ were the ones responsible.”

“I see,” Harleen said, “but how do you know that Edwards was involved?”

“Ziggy managed the account with two others and they confessed just before I killed them both. The one gave me a bit of a sting,” he said as he pointed to his shoulder. “They said that Ziggy had been working with Edwards and there’s no way they would have said it for fun. But I know that Winston, the head guard, was in on it too. Someone matching his description showed up at the club the other night asking for Ziggy and then ran away. Milo followed him but lost him near Briarcliff Manor up by Arkham.”

“Hold on,” Harleen said, leaning forward with her fingers to her temple as she saw the pieces fall into perfect place. “Edwards lives up in Briarcliff Manor. J, this makes sense. Edwards told me that Arkham fired Winston because they believed that your men had paid him to smuggle in a gun. I guess he had bought a whole bunch of expensive stuff in cash that he couldn’t explain. So, Ziggy was actually paying off Edwards who paid off Winston to use the ECT machine on you. That’s why you got worse just after you were starting to get better! _I knew it_!” Harleen yelled feeling validated that her course of treatment for Joker was correct.

“So, now I know that at least Winston and probably Edwards are out there looking to cash in on me in some way,” Joker responded.

“Edwards is definitely in on it for sure. He told me that you belonged in the hole forever and I should just let you go. Plus, there is no reason that a man like Winston would be driving up to Briarcliff Manor. He wouldn’t be able to afford to park his car there much less own property,” Harleen snickered. “The car that was following us the other night, did you get a good look at it?”

“It was a dark BMW. That much I could tell in the darkness,” Joker told her.

“Then they’re definitely working together. That was Edwards’ car and I’m betting that Winston was driving. Edwards doesn’t have the balls to do anything like that. He just likes to pull strings and manipulate everyone else...” Harleen paused. “So what do we do? Do we do anything at all?”

“We don’t need to do anything just yet, but I would like his address so we can keep tabs on our friend Dr. Edwards. You know, just in case,” Joker said as a scheming smile parted across his face.

“I’ve been there a few times,” Harleen responded, “I’ll get it for you.”

*****

A few days later, Harleen had convinced Joker to let her return to her apartment to gather a few things. She would drive her car back to the club and transfer everything to one of the SUVs.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me,” she said as she got out of Joker’s car and walked a few blocks to hail a cab. She knew she probably wasn’t being watched, but she didn’t like to take her chances. Plus, she now had Joker’s number and would call him if she ran into trouble.

 _Did u get a cab yet?_ he texted.

 _Not yet, I just got out of the car 30 seconds ago,_ she responded.

 _And don’t text and drive!_ she followed up immediately.

She caught a cab and headed back to her apartment, which felt eerily quiet and very empty as she stepped inside. She cleaned out her fridge as most of the food was expired or rotting. She collected her mail and filled out paperwork to have it forwarded to a post office box. She spent several hours gathering and packing items that she felt she should take to Joker’s home—their home. She smiled thinking that she had made the right decision. Sure, she was a little crazy, she realized, but isn’t everyone?

She continued to text Joker back and forth—mostly him texting her with questions about her progress or just random updates.

_What r u doing now?_

_R u almost ready?_

_Fettuccini alfredo for dinner tonight._

_Just worked out, what do u think?_ he texted with a photo of himself standing in front of a mirror.

“Good god,” she said out loud in her bedroom as she admired the photo. Darkness had fallen outside and she knew she needed to get back soon.

Suddenly, she felt a strong hand grip her neck and a cloth cover her face. She couldn’t help but breathe it in. She dropped her phone on the floor and her world went black.

*****


	19. A Terrifying Strength

Harleen awoke to find herself in a familiar room. Her legs and arms were bound together with duct tape and she had a cloth wrapped around her mouth holding it open, making it impossible to speak. She looked around the large room at the Victorian-style sofas, the grandfather clock, the ornate Persian rugs, and the mahogany desk. It was Dr. Edwards’ home.

“She’s awake,” she heard the familiar voice yell. She turned and saw Winston’s trademark red hair as her stomach did somersaults of apprehension.

The two men came into the room and sat across from her on an elaborately designed sofa with gold embellishments.

“Harleen,” Dr. Edwards called to her almost like a child. “Harleen, you have been a very bad employee. I’m beginning to wonder if we fired the wrong person,” he said as he looked at Winston.

“Look,” he continued, “I know this looks bad on me, but it was our last resort. I think we can have a win-win situation here. I won’t turn you in to the authorities if you get your green-haired lover to give us some money. Twenty million each. I’m sure he can afford it. That’s plenty for us to just walk away and for me to retire.” Harleen wanted to barf at the smooth sound of his voice as he tried to blackmail her. He used that same stilted voice on patients when he was trying to manipulate them into doing what he wanted.

Winston stood up and untied the gag from her mouth. She looked up at him and used her forearm to wipe spit from her face.

“And what if I scream, huh? Your neighbors could hear.”

“Oh, they won’t hear you, dear. Trust me. We’re so far away from each other, they wouldn’t even hear a gunshot...” Edwards’ voice trailed off as he looked at Winston. He had a large gun that looked like an assault rifle on the couch, he had two guns in holsters on his hips, and he was holding another small black handgun.

“What do you want from me?” Harleen asked.

“I need you to convince your new _boyfriend_ to hand over his money. Is that so hard? And then we part ways. You don’t tell on me for my little indiscretion here and I don’t tell on _you_ for your huge indiscretion.” Edwards paused and sighed. “I just don’t get it. Why did you do it?”

“Why? Why?” Anger started to fill her voice as the words tumbled out of her mouth, “Because he was the most sane person there. You said he was crazy, but he wasn’t. He’s not a psychopath. Can a psychopath run a billion-dollar empire? Or have long-standing relationships with others? He has a problem with people like you—people who want to control him. People who live in society and do what everyone else wants them to do because they’re a fucking robot. Joker is not a robot. His mind is free. He does what he wants and you’re just jealous.”

“Oh, tsk, tsk, Harleen,” Edwards said in a condescending tone. “You bought it hook, line, and sinker. Can’t you see how he has polluted your mind? I had _such_ high hopes for you and it turns out that you’re just a mindless toady, fawning all over your celebrity patient. I should have never assigned him to you. But I trusted you... You broke that trust, Harleen. I have lost all respect for you.” Edwards stood up and paced around the room. “I was taking you under my wing. I wanted you to have the best at Arkham. Who do you think would have been in charge of promoting you to a supervisory position? Who do you think I wanted to replace me when I retired? It was you, Harleen. But now... Well, now, I see your true colors. Your degree is a sham. I should have you committed... just like your father.”

Harleen’s eyes flashed with anger. “How do you know anything about that?” she demanded.

“Oh, I know a lot. I know that your poor daddy had a few issues related to his diagnosis of... hm, what was it now? Oh, yes, schizophrenia. You ever think you have the same thing? Would be such a pity if you committed suicide in a psychiatric hospital, too. Like father, like daughter, I suppose.”

“Shut up!” Harleen screamed. “I’m not schizophrenic! And... and who cares about my father? People have mental health disorders. You of all people should know how to be sensitive to that!”

“Oh, poor Harleen...” Edwards continued in his arrogant and superior tone. “You must be too far gone to even realize the symptoms you’re experiencing. You must truly be having a break with reality if you think that you can live the rest of your life with someone like the Joker. You do realize that, correct? Have you even given it any thought?”

“I have,” she countered, “and it will be a great life. I’ll have more money and sex than you could ever dream of—and I know that that’s all that matters to you. You’re the joke of Arkham, you know? You and your fancy cars. You’re probably compensating for a small dick. Is that why your wife left you? Because you couldn’t keep it up? Is that why you keep getting different hookers? Because you’re too embarrassed to stick with the same one since you can’t get it up? Hm??”

Edwards turned and slapped Harleen across the face, causing her glasses to fly off and land on the floor.

“At least I have found someone that I love! You’ll never experience that again,” she shouted at him as emotions started to take over and her eyes filled with tears.

Suddenly, a small canister landed in the middle of the room and quickly started to release a cloud of smoke that filled the entire area. Winston grabbed his holstered guns and began shooting into the adjacent rooms.

“Fuck!” Harleen heard Frost yell as she hobbled off the couch in the direction of her glasses. She knew he had been injured and she hoped it wasn’t a mortal wound. Her heart pounded knowing that Joker must be there to save her.

The smoke created a thick cover as she felt around on the floor. She couldn’t find her glasses, but she did find that a leg of the couch had a corner slightly sharp enough to help her start a tear in the duct tape around her wrists.

Winston made his way through the smoke toward the dining room where Frost sat on the floor with his gun firing toward the red-haired man.

“Drop it,” Winston said as he pushed the barrel of his gun into Frost’s forehead. He had been shot in the leg and was lying helplessly on the floor of the dining room.

Joker popped up behind Frost and shot Winston through his chest, his blood spraying all over the room, including the white walls and Persian rug that covered the floor.

“Ooh, that’s gonna leave a mark,” Joker said, laughing out loud in his distinctive staccato cackle as Winston’s body fell to the ground. Stepping into the living room and looking through the fog, he saw the outline of two figures. Edwards had Harleen in his grasp and was holding a gun to her head.

“J! J! Help me!” she shrieked in panic.

“Oh Harleen, it’s not you that I want. I want your precious ‘J’. Have you told him about your mental health problems yet?” Edwards sneered in her ear.

Unable to take a good shot at his head, Joker weighed his options. He couldn’t risk letting him shoot Harleen. She was his life now.

“You want me? Just let her go and take me!” Joker called to him.

Edwards punched Harleen in the temple with the hilt of his handgun and started to open fire on Joker who was now laughing hysterically. Standing up slowly, Edwards grabbed the assault rifle from the couch where Winston had left it and walked toward Joker who had backed up around the corner of what was the huge kitchen.

Joker jumped out at Edwards as they both struggled over the rifle. Joker leaned in and bit him on the neck, drawing blood, which he spat on the ground. He then punched Edwards in the face with a hard blow and Edwards countered with cracking Joker in the ear with the end of the rifle. Having caught Joker off guard, Edwards pushed him against the wall, pinning him at his neck with the rifle. Joker grunted as he pushed Edwards off of him. Edwards was strong, but not as strong as Joker, and Joker was damn sure that he wouldn’t let the doctor best him in a fist fight. Joker gave him a hard jab to the gut now wanting to play the game. He momentarily forgot about Harleen and he returned to his old self—the lone wolf, the solitary figure, the one who has no weaknesses.

“Come on,” Joker said as he put up his two hands beckoning Edwards to fight with him. “Come on. I know you wanna,” he cajoled the man at least 20 years older than him.

Edwards swung and laid a hard punch on Joker’s jaw, catching him off guard yet again. Joker fought back, landing three good blows on Edwards—one in the gut and two on the face. Blood was streaming from Edwards' mouth as he picked up the rifle and rushed Joker again, pinning him against the wall. Joker pushed the older man off and he flew back onto the floor.

“Okay, no more games,” Joker seethed in his face as he got on top of the older man and straddled his body, landing blows on his face one after the other after the other. “Maybe I should break your back like I did to your son!”

Edwards tried to yell out but couldn’t in the midst of Joker’s punches.

Joker felt a hot sting on his previously injured arm as he realized that Winston had somehow managed to survive the shot to his chest and had kicked him in the shoulder and off of Edwards.

“FUCK!” Joker yelled as he fell on his side with his old wound reopened and bloody. Winston fell to the ground in a delirious state as Edwards sat up.

“So you _are_ the one? You did that to my son?” Edwards’ face was twisted with shock and anger. “I should kill you right now, you motherfucker.” He raised the rifle to Joker’s face.

“Kill him,” Winston’s throat gurgled with blood and spit.

Joker began to laugh his unnerving laugh. “Do it! Just do it! Or do you want my money too much? Do it!” he goaded the pair as Edwards debated his course of action.

Suddenly, there were two loud popping noises that filled the room. Edwards head exploded and then Winston dropped to the ground. Harleen had found her glasses as the smoke cleared and grabbed the gun that Edwards had left behind. She shot both men in the head, their brains splattering all over the kitchen table and appliances. She felt it was fitting that she killed Edwards with the same gun that he had attempted to kill her with.

“J!” she called as she crawled over to him, her legs still bound.

“I’m okay,” he said, attempting to stand up. “I’m okay. How’s Frost?”

She inched over to Frost who laid on the floor of the dining room. He was surrounded in a pool of blood, which she found had emanated from his thigh. His heart was still beating, but just barely, as she found the wound and put pressure on it with her bare hands. She removed her cardigan and bunched it up onto his leg.

“Frosty! Stay with me! J!” she yelled again. “I need the duct tape! Do you see it anywhere?”

Joker came stumbling in, blood streaming from his face and shoulder, and handed a bloody roll of silver tape to Harleen.

“We need to keep his leg elevated. Here,” she said, directing Joker to continue holding her cardigan on his wound, “hold this in place while I wrap the tape around his leg. We gotta get him somewhere fast, he’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Well... we can’t take him to a hospital,” Joker said as he looked down at his friend, possibly his only friend in the world. He sat in a solemn silence as he realized that the only two people he loved were in this room.

“I, uh, I might know a guy. Do you trust me?” Harleen asked, her eyes fixed on Joker.

“I trust you with my life, Harleen,” he responded in a somber tone.

“Good, can you cut my legs free? And can I use your phone?” she asked as she made the realization that Frost was wearing a bullet-proof vest with two slugs stuck in the material. Joker handed her his phone and she dialed a number from memory as he sliced the tape and pulled it away from her jeans.

“Dr. Evans? Henry?” she yelled into the phone as a groggy voice answered. It was close to 11:00 at night. “It’s Harleen Quinzel. I have an emergency. Someone has been shot. A good friend has been shot. Can you help me?”

“Harleen? Someone has been shot? Where are you? Are you at Arkham? Do you need help getting to an ER?” Dr. Evans asked her in his confused state.

“No! I can’t go to an ER, Henry. This is, um, a sensitive matter. I only trust you!” she said, her voice full of worry.

“I, um... I volunteer at the clinic in Nelson Plaza, do you know where that is? There is a private entrance in the back,” Dr. Evans said, his voice becoming stronger.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Harleen said, hoping against hope that their friend would last those ten minutes.

*****

Harleen grabbed Frost by the legs and began to drag him through his pool of blood as Joker grabbed his arms and lifted. They made it to the foyer when Harleen stopped.

“Wait!” she yelled and set his legs down. “Just give me a one second. I’ll be right there.”

Joker continued to pull Frost through the foyer and to the door as Harleen ran around the living room grabbing a few things—the duct tape that had bound her arms and legs, her mouth gag, and the gun she used to shoot both men. She had learned enough about forensics and had seen enough true crime shows to know that they could convict on the seemingly most inconsequential evidence. She had gathered everything that she had touched and stuffed all of it into her pockets.

The pair struggled to move their large friend quickly down the long driveway to Joker’s Mercedes as it sat parked with its rear to the house for a fast getaway. They opened the trunk and carefully lifted his heavy body inside, his blood still spilling everywhere.

“I’ll drive, J,” Harleen stated. “I know exactly where to go.”

“You got it, babe,” he said as he threw her the keys and hopped in.

Harleen drove without headlights as she exited the affluent neighborhood and turned right toward the river. She was only five minutes away from the clinic.

She and Dr. Evans arrived at the same time in the quiet parking lot as she raced to the rear of the clinic with him in tow. Harleen and Joker jumped out, opened the trunk, and grabbed Frost by the hands and legs to lift him out.

“Wait, Dr. Quinzel,” Evans said to her with a tone of caution and criticism. He looked at Joker who was holding his friend’s arms, his face and clothing covered in blood.

“Henry, I’m not asking you to agree or understand, but...” she paused looking at Joker and then at Frost, “we need your help.”

“This could mean my job...” Harleen heard Evans say as he approached the rear door of the clinic and open it with his keys. “We can bring him in this way. Come on, come on...”

Evans assisted Joker with lifting and transporting Frost into the clinic where they placed him on a table in a small room. Harleen explained that he had been shot in the leg and had bled out significantly as Evans went to work cutting his pants open near the hip.

“This is bad Harleen. The bullet hit his femoral artery. He’s probably in hypovolemic shock,” he said. “I’m not even going to ask how this happened.”

Harleen then looked at Joker, a million thoughts rolling through her mind. _Evans is going to find out about Winston and Edwards. He’ll know they’re dead soon. Is he going to turn us in?_ Joker, sensing the swirl of panic in her eyes, grabbed her hand and held it firmly with both of his own. The tender moment was caught by Evans in the corner of his eye as he began to frantically work to save the man lying on his table.

Evans spent several hours furiously working on Frost asking both Harleen and Joker to do various tasks like clamping off the artery and other damaged blood vessels as he removed the slug and repaired the broken artery. Harleen had difficulty looking at the sight of the wound with all of the blood while Joker stood stone-faced, not making a sound. Finally after a blood transfusion, Evans sat down on a stool next to the recumbent man and removed his latex gloves.

“Well, Harleen...  _Mr. Joker..._  your friend here is stable and should survive. Do you care to tell me how this happened? Are there going to be more injured people that we’ll have to contend with?” Evans interrogated the pair.

Harleen took a long breath and exhaled. “Henry,” she started, “listen, I know that this... is... a little bizarre. Joker is probably the last person you expected to see me with.”

“You know that this...” Evans gestured with his hands, pointing between the two as Joker leaned against a wall with his arms crossed, “... this breaks so many rules, so many laws. I mean, first off, he should be in jail! And you shouldn’t be cavorting with a criminal—especially one who was your _patient._ ” Evans put his hand on his forehead and looked down at the floor. He viewed Harleen as a young, smart, level-headed young woman—someone he trusted at Arkham to always do the right thing. His brown eyes pleaded with hers for some sort of rational answer. His big eyebrows were furrowed, causing a crease in his forehead, and his bushy mustache covered the disappointment in his frown.

“I know, Henry,” Harleen replied, “I know. I just couldn’t help it. You can’t help who you fall in love with.” Joker lifted his gaze from his pitch black service boots to stare at the back of Harleen’s head.

“Wait... you _love_ this guy?” Dr. Evans realized, “...Oh, Jesus Christ in heaven, Harleen, please tell me that you did not bring a gun into Arkham.”

“No... No! Of course not,” she reassured him. She was starting to get pretty comfortable with lying and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not. “It was one of the guards. It was Winston. He kidnapped me tonight and took me to Edwards’ house. They were going to _kill_ me, Henry.”

“But why would they kidnap you?”

“Because they followed me and they knew that they could get to Joker through me. They could get to his money through me... as a ransom.” Tears filled her eyes as she thought about how close she was to losing her life that evening, and she had Joker to thank for saving it.

“Harleen... what happened to Winston and Edwards?” Evans asked in an alarmed tone, already knowing the answer.

“They didn’t make it,” Joker said coldly, finally breaking his silence.

“Jesus Christ,” Evans gasped. “You know this puts me in an awkward situation. What if the authorities want to talk to me? Actually, no, what keeps me from _going_ to the authorities? That would be the right thing to do. I should call 911 right now...”

“What do you want?” Joker asked in an attempt to bribe the man. “A brand new house? A fancy car? You name it and it’s yours.”

“That money talk isn’t going to work on me, Mr. Joker,” Evans snapped. “Unlike most of the other unsavory folks you deal with, I actually have a set of principles. I helped your friend out tonight because I pledged an oath to help all people in need.”

“Please, Henry, do this for me,” Harleen pleaded with him. “You are the only one I can trust right now.”

A moment of silence filled the air as the Evans sat on his stool shaking his head.

“It’s almost four in the morning and I need to go to mass with my family in a few hours,” Evans said. “We need to get your friend out of here right away so I can clean up.”

Joker pulled out his phone and texted Milo who had been waiting in an SUV in the parking lot at Joker’s request hours ago. Milo and Fritz came into the small room and carried Frost away, as Joker held the IV bag. Evans turned and handed Harleen several more IV bags that he had grabbed from his surgical supplies.

“Harleen,” Evans sighed, as the men had left the room, “just be careful, okay? Please? Take care of yourself. Do you really want to get involved with someone like him? Is that what you want your life to be? You had everything as a doctor. Are you prepared to leave that? To leave all of that training? To leave that life? Look at you. You’ve been through so much tonight. You’re _covered_ in blood.”

Harleen bit her lower lip and squeezed her eyes together. Her head started to pulsate with pain at the thought of this new pathway her life had taken in just the past two months. She killed two men in cold blood and she didn’t know how she could live with it. Tears started to stream down her face.

“I don’t know. I just don’t know. I don’t what’s real anymore. But I know that things make sense with him. I really do love him and I know he loves me,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Listen,” he said as he stood up and embraced her with his strong arms, “I’m here for you, Harleen. Whatever you need, I’m here for you, okay?” He leaned back and looked at her with sincerity in his deep brown eyes.

“Okay... thank you,” she replied, her voice meek and small. She wiped her tears away and walked out the back door with the IV bags in hand.

*****

Joker drove home as she sat in the passenger seat watching the world fly by as it started to wake up. She was shaken to her core by the night’s events.

 _Am I a killer? Is that who I am now?_ The thought kept spinning in her head. She really didn’t know what was real anymore. She wondered if she should just dye her hair crazy colors, get some tattoos and a sexy outfit, and just go wreak havoc on society with Joker. Maybe bash people in the face with a bat. Maybe just take what she wanted when she wanted it.

 _No, that’s not me! That’s not who I am, no matter how much Edwards wanted to make me think that I’m crazy. I’m not crazy! I’m not crazy!_ Tears began to fall down her cheeks again as she stared out the window. She did her best to not let Joker hear her distress. She didn’t want him to think she was weak. Despite her best efforts to stay quiet, he still heard her and left it be. He knew she would need some time to think.

*****

The group got Frost set up in a guest room on the second floor and Joker offered to sit with him throughout the night. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, Harleen could sense the concern on Joker’s face when he told her that she could go upstairs and get some sleep.

After cleaning herself up with a shower, Harleen laid in the bed that she shared with Joker and stared at the ceiling. Her body was so tired, but her brain wouldn’t let her fall asleep. She felt like there was no way she could ever live with the knowledge that she killed someone—two someones, at that.

She replayed the scene over and over in her mind. She remembered picking up the gun without a second thought and shooting them both directly in the head with perfect aim, as if she were made for a life of crime. _Maybe I should be committed,_ she thought to herself as Dr. Edwards’ words rang in her ears. _Maybe I’m just rotten on the inside and I never realized it. Maybe there is no hope for me._ Self doubt continued to well up within her as she sat up in bed hyperventilating. She rushed to the toilet and threw up, recalling the last time she had done that was after Ziggy’s assault. _Is this the kind of life I want for myself? I’m constantly a nervous wreck. I’m constantly in harm’s way._

Harleen sat back on her bent legs as she stared through the porcelain commode. She had been through so much chaos and couldn’t get her bearings. She thought about everything that had happened to her over the past month. She fell head over heels in love with a murderous psychiatric patient. She brought him a machine gun. She lied to police by pinning the deed on a guard. She was sexually assaulted. She watched her would-be rapist die in front of her, actually die on top of her. She was kidnapped from her apartment. She _killed_ two men. She drove a dying friend in her trunk to a clinic in the dead of night for emergency surgery. She basically bribed one of the most upstanding doctors that she knew to not turn her in while also lying to his face about the machine gun. She lied to her parents and friends. She lied to her lawyer. She lied to police.

She lied to everyone... except Joker. She never once lied to him. Their relationship was the one true thing that she _could_ wrap her mind around. He loved her and she knew it. She could tell in the way that he looked at her, the way he held her hand, the way he protected her, the way he saved her. And the sex... the sex was incredible. It was mind-blowing sex every night with kisses so electric they set her lips on fire. But it didn’t balance out. She stood up and flushed the toilet.

 _I have to leave,_ she told herself. _I have to leave right now. For my own sanity._ She began to sob as she made the realization that she couldn’t stay with Joker—the man she loved with all of her heart—because of what she was afraid she would become.

She didn’t even grab a suitcase as she left the bedroom in the early light of morning. She didn’t know if she would ever be back and she couldn’t even think about it. She carried her purse with her along with her phone as she walked down the huge hallway with its thick carpeting. She just had to get away. She needed distance.

Harleen saw Milo and Fritz sitting in Frost’s office looking at their phones and she stopped in the doorway.

“Hey guys,” she said, her voice hoarse from tiredness, “Is there any chance someone can give me a ride?”

“Sure,” Milo said, “you want me to go sit with Frost so Mr. J can give you a ride?”

“No, please,” she responded, “I don’t want to involve J in this...”

“Well, you know it’s gonna be my head if you go missing again. That was _not_ pretty when he realized you were missing earlier, Miss Harleen.”

“I won’t, I promise,” she assured him.

Milo drove her for about 20 minutes until Harleen decided that she would be able to get out and easily hail a cab. “Be careful, doll,” she heard the man say as she thanked him and closed the car door.

After grabbing a cab, she finally reached her apartment where she sat down on her couch and just stared. Her tired body fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

*****


	20. A Contrived Existence

Unable to sleep very well, she awoke close to noon with that familiar pain in the pit of her stomach. She immediately thought about how she killed the two men, their blood splattering all over the kitchen as their bodies slumped and fell to the floor. She was responsible for that and the police would be investigating it soon.

She spent the next week in worried blur, reading every news article she could on the incident. She breathed a very slight sigh of relief when she learned that the police suspected that Winston was part of Joker’s team and they killed Dr. Edwards for some reason—likely because he was in charge of Joker’s stay at Arkham. Harleen’s name was mentioned a few times, but only marginally as the kidnap victim of the "raging psychopath." They never mentioned a female at the scene of the crime, but Harleen feared that it would only be a matter of time before they found her DNA when processing his house.

Harleen thought about Joker often and he constantly reached out to her by text, which she seemed to read and re-read over a million times, never gathering up the courage to respond.

_Hey, I know u need space. I’ll b here when u want to come back._

_Frost is doing okay. Just thought you’d like to know._

_Got Frosty a wheelchair. Doc says he should be able to walk in about 8 wks._

_Bed is lonely without u in it._

Her first week alone turned into nearly two months and she still hadn’t responded to Joker. While she missed him terribly, she couldn’t help but be reminded of the person that she was becoming. She didn’t like the thought of looking the other way when it came to Joker’s criminal activities and she couldn’t allow herself to get sucked into that world. It was a difficult world, she realized. _I killed two people in cold blood,_ she continued to remind herself.

She needed a break from the mental torment and took the opportunity to spend time with her friend Vanessa who invited her out to celebrate Harleen’s birthday. As she was preparing for a nice night out on the town in mid-town Gotham, her apartment buzzer rang, causing her heart to jump in her chest. It was a courier who had a package and a beautiful bouquet of red roses—eleven in total. She thanked the courier and looked at the package, which had the name _Joseph Carr_ in the corner. She didn’t know if she should open the box or just forget about it, as if she were trying to erase everything that happened over the past several months. She decided to open it, revealing the tell-tale turquoise blue of Tiffany  & Co. Inside was a gorgeous diamond bracelet that matched the necklace and earrings he had bought for her, which she happened to be wearing. She placed her eleven roses into a vase and then attached the new bracelet to her wrist before heading out the door to meet Vanessa.

The pair walked and talked without a care in the world as they went shopping. Even though Harleen had a little extra spending cash as the severance from Arkham had come through, Vanessa insisted on treating her friend to a fancy birthday dinner.

“Here’s to thirty!” Vanessa said, holding her drink high as Harleen clinked it with her own glass.

“Ugh, don’t remind me!” Harleen laughed. “I feel so old! How did I get to be thirty already?”

“I know what you mean... But it’s not so bad,” Vanessa flashed a perfect smile at her friend.

“Vanessa,” Harleen started, “what would you do if you were in love with someone—like truly in love with them—but your... I guess... your _lifestyles_ were so totally different that you didn’t think you could reconcile that fact?”

“Har, are you telling me that you may have found _the one_?” Vanessa smiled and lifted an eyebrow.

“Well, maybe, but it’s complicated.”

“Like, how complicated is it?” Vanessa inquired.

“Uh...” Harleen uttered, trying to think of how she could choose her words. “So, um, I met a guy but he... is a bad guy... How can I put this? I guess I can say that he works for the mob.”

“The mob? What?!” Vanessa practically shrieked as Harleen protested by shushing her, causing heads to turn in the upscale restaurant.

“Yeah, the mob. So I fell in love with a mobster,” Harleen admitted out loud to her best friend.

“Well... has he killed anyone?”

“Yes, he’s killed lots of people.”

“Has he ever been in jail?”

“Yes,” Harleen stated, not caring to elaborate. _Yes, and I broke him out of it_ , she joked to herself.

“Well...” Vanessa put her finger to her chin and contemplated a moment as her big blue eyes became fixed on Harleen. “How does he treat you?”

“He is honestly... fantastic. He’s never yelled at me. He’s never hit me. He is _so_ considerate of my needs. He’s so protective of me... He can be a little quiet so it is sometimes hard to gauge him emotionally, but he is so passionate. The sex is amazing. It’s absolutely amazing... I mean, it is, like, arch-your-back-make-your-toes-curl amazing. And he’s so hot.” She looked around the restaurant and lowered her voice saying, “All I have to do is look at him and I’m wet immediately.” Harleen giggled like a smitten schoolgirl causing Vanessa to guffaw. “I’ve never been with a man like him.”

“Well, it sounds like he’s your true love. And it sounds like he is the exact opposite of that douchebag Dexter,” Vanessa snorted as she looked up from her dinner. “I guess it really boils down to this—how does he make you feel? Does he make you feel good about yourself? Does he accept you for who you are? If so, then I think your choice is already made.”

Harleen stared across the table at her wise friend. “I love you so much, Van,” she said, smiling at Vanessa. She sincerely appreciated her friend and was lucky to have her as a sounding board.

“So, when do I get a chance to meet this mobster of yours, huh?”

“Um... I don’t know,” Harleen said somewhat remorsefully. “I’m not sure when the time will be right.”

The ladies finished up their delicious meal and exited the restaurant into a sea of people on the busy sidewalk. Looking toward the end of the block, Harleen saw a very attractive man approach her. His hair was dark brown, his skin was slightly tan, and his eyes were a piercing blue. He walked between the two women before Harleen could even register that it was Joker, though she couldn’t be sure. He bumped into her slightly as his exhilarating scent of cologne swirled around her nose, making her heart race. She was about to call his name as Vanessa reached down on the ground to pick up a single red rose he had dropped. The mystery man was then swallowed up in the crowd.

“Hm, that totally hot guy just dropped a rose. Mmmmm,” she said as she inhaled the scent on the red petals and then held it out to her friend. “I think it was meant for you, Har. He must have known it was your birthday.”

“I... I think you’re right, Van,” Harleen said, taking the rose and thinking about the eleven she had in her vase at home as the crowd parted around them. “Somehow I think you’re right.”

*****

Later that evening, Harleen received a text from Dr. Evans.

_Harleen, I am flabbergasted by the act, but I told you that you cannot bribe me._

_What r u talking about?_ Harleen texted back, completely confused.

_The clinic received a cashier’s check in the amount of 500k today. I assume you and the Joker have something to do with this._

_I honestly did not know. This is all him. Take it and use it,_ she texted.

 _I guess I’ll have to. Tell your boyfriend that this was very much appreciated. But I can’t be bought like this_ , Evans added.

_I will._

_My boyfriend,_ Harleen thought to herself. So much for being boyfriend and girlfriend. She hadn’t seen him for almost two months. _Except for tonight._ She thought for a moment about the man who passed her on the street. It was Joker. She knew it was him. She would recognize those penetrating, crystal blue eyes anywhere. She smiled as she thought about how handsome he was with his tousled brown wig and his press-on eyebrows. He even added some bronzer to give himself some color and cover up his face tattoos. _Maybe we could live somewhat of a normal life together,_ she thought wishfully.

*****

Joker spent the weeks and weeks of Harleen’s absence in a state of inner turmoil. He knew they had to be together and he would do anything to make it happen. He thought that perhaps he should just kidnap her and keep her hostage in her home, but he knew better than to do that. He knew it needed to be her decision.

He decided to text her updates about Frost and send her the occasional photo of something he was doing or eating—even if she never responded. He missed her immensely and he wasn’t used to that feeling. He understood how she must have felt after that night in Edwards’ home and he didn’t blame her for running. _It’s always hard the first time you kill someone—especially someone you thought you knew and trusted—but it gets easier_ , he thought.

Joker did not like the fact that he had thrust Harleen into this type of lifestyle. She was innocent and pure—something that he had respected her for since day one. He couldn’t expect someone like her to simply give up her life, or at least the values that she held, and shack up with a convicted criminal. She was one of the strongest people that he knew yet he realized that this whole situation must be so difficult for her. Accepting his lifestyle and opting to live with him would change who she was fundamentally as a person and he understood that she would need time to grapple with that.

This absence was different from her previous one because he felt confident that she would return and he was just waiting for her to come around. He stopped drinking as much, he removed himself completely from his pain medications, and he started working out again on a daily basis. He knew that it would only be a matter of time before she returned and he would be waiting for her. He thought many times about just showing up at her apartment and wooing her back into his life, but he knew that wouldn’t work on her. She needed time to think.

He burned to feel her touch again. He spent countless nights lying on the bed staring out his wall of windows, hoping that maybe she had climbed up the back steps to his balcony, but her apparition never appeared. He followed her to the restaurant on her birthday and waited to see her on the street, her beautiful face causing his heart to explode as she stared at him in bewilderment. He wanted to grab her and kiss her then and there in front of her friend. He wanted to tell her that everything would be okay, that he would give her every single thing that her heart desired. It pained him greatly to walk past and not look back.

“Where’s Harleen?” Frost had asked one day as Joker visited him in his temporary room after the nurse had left. The benefit of having millions upon millions of dollars was that he could afford to hire the best help and pay them a price that would keep them silent.

“She left for a while,” Joker responded.

“What do you mean? Are you just going to let her get away?” he asked.

“No, of course not,” Joker said with an angry look on his face.

“Well, J, you almost let her get away once. She might not come back the second time. This...” Frost motioned to his injured leg and Joker’s shoulder, “is probably not the lifestyle that she is used to, you know.”

“I know that! I know it.”

“But you want her back here with you, right?” Frost asked.

“Yes,” Joker said quietly, slightly rolling his eyes as if it were difficult for him to admit the obvious. “Yes, I do want her back. I’m trying to get her back.”

“J, this is not working out for you. You have to go get her. You have to tell her that you love her. I know you love her. It’s obvious.”

“I know,” Joker replied.

Joker looked down at the phone in his hand. Unbeknownst to Harleen, Frost had installed a tracking app on her phone when she had last returned and Joker was using it to track her whereabouts, ensuring that she was safe at all times.

“You know where she is, right?” Frost asked as Joker looked up from his phone. “Well, then, go get her.”

*****


	21. A Tragic Revelation

Harleen sat at her favorite bench in a large park by a pond not far from her apartment as she took in the sights and sounds of spring. It was now early April and she had spent over two months away from Joker just thinking about the direction of her life. When she still worked at Arkham, she had found herself sitting on this exact bench many times contemplating the exact same thing, but usually around the fact that she felt stuck in her position there. She had always felt that she could do more to help people at her job but was not able to. She remembered repeatedly wrestling with the fact that she felt despondent with helping the population that she did because they so often could not be rehabilitated. There was just no chance. She thought of all of the criminal activities that Joker was still involved in even after being placed in her care and her heart sank. She never thought that she could change him or control him. He was truly incorrigible and he pulled her into that world. What she knew was that she had made a real human connection with someone who she was constantly told was not human—he was a monster. And yet some would describe her as a monster for having taken two lives and not paying the price for it. _Maybe I am the monster, not him,_ she sighed to herself.

She looked down at the sketch pad in her hand and flipped through the drawings she had added to it over the past month or so—a rose, her hand, a drawing of Joker’s face based on the photo she had stolen... and now the pond and springtime scene in front of her. She fixed her gaze onto some birds flying in the distance when she heard a motor on the hill behind her approach and then become silent.

She turned around on her bench to see a slender man dressed entirely in black dismount from a motorcycle. He came down the wooden stairs next to her and stood at the opposite end of the bench, his helmet still on. Harleen’s heart began to race as she wondered if she might be in harm’s way with this stranger.

Then the man removed his helmet to reveal his brilliant green hair, somewhat messy from being in a helmet. He turned to Harleen as her hands began to tremble and he sat down at the end of the bench looking out at the pond.

“It’s a beautiful place here. Do you come here a lot?” he said, as if he were making small talk with a random person.

“I... do,” Harleen replied, never breaking her gaze at him, “I used to come here a lot when I worked at Arkham. It helps me clear my head and figure out what I should do,” she said, hinting at the fact that she has been spending a lot of time trying to figure things out.

“I see,” he said.

“J, I’ve been thinking so much. I’m just so afraid. I’m afraid that what we have is impossible... I’m afraid that I just can’t do it. I-I killed two people. I killed them by my own hand... I just... I just...” she said as her voice trailed off attempting to find her words.

“Harleen,” he said, using her proper name indicating that what he was about to say was very serious, “we need to talk.”

“I know...”

“Listen, this is hard for me,” he said, “so let me just get it out. Okay?”

Harleen shook her head up and down as he stared across the pond and took at deep breath. She was not used to this sensitive side of him as she was usually privy to seemingly two personalities: the happy-go-lucky, funny Joker and the serious, jaw clenching, eyes-shooting-daggers Joker. At this moment, he was just like a regular guy grappling with unfamiliar emotions as he fidgeted with the strap on his helmet.

“You know, I was almost married once before. Jessica was her name... I loved her deeply. We met at school and started dating for a few years before deciding to be serious about it. After I got my PhD and started up at ACE with Nicky, life was great. Jess and I were going to get married. The same night I proposed to her was the same night she told me she was pregnant... with a son... I was on top of the world.

“And then, one day, a neighbor saw the door was broken and found her dead in our apartment. Police told me she had been raped and then stabbed dozens of times in her stomach. Her throat was slit, too. They wouldn’t even let me see her until she was in the morgue.” Joker paused and took in a deep breath. “The investigation continued for almost a year with no leads. There was no forensic evidence. Nothing.... Jess worked for the District Attorney’s office and had just helped prosecute a high-profile case that had been overturned, so the police pointed fingers at the guy who was released but they could never make a case out of it...

“Living with that loss was really difficult. At that point in my life, I had lost everything. I had lost my parents, my brothers, my sister, and now my future wife and son. It felt like the world was out to just fuck me over.”

“I’m so sorry,” Harleen practically whispered as tears fell from her eyes.

“Well, it wasn’t over yet,” he continued. “That year had passed and I finally decided to go through Jessica’s stuff and start getting rid of reminders of our life together. That’s when I found a stack of old legal papers that she had kept for almost ten years—since she was around sixteen or seventeen. It was a PFA for someone named William Nicholas Edwards. At the time, the name meant nothing to me. The guy was also a teenager at the time and so it had his parents’ names listed... Wayne Edwards and Marcia Hughes.”

“Wait... _Wayne Edwards_?” Harleen gasped incredulously. “ _My_ Wayne Edwards?”

“Yes. The whole time I was working with Nick, I had no idea that he had assaulted Jessica when they were teens. She took him to court but they gave him a slap on the wrist and the case was sealed. Then Nick changed his name from William Edwards to Nick Hughes. Jess had even become friends with him and he was part of our circle, but I guess it never clicked with her. She never let on that there was something wrong. And I never really noticed him acting strangely around her. But he was my best friend and I trusted him.”

Harleen sat quietly as Joker talked. A million questions swirled in her head.

“After I found the papers and after thinking about it for a few days, I finally decided to approach Nick about it. It was after a birthday party he threw for me at ACE. I know my memory has been faulty in the past, but I’ll never forget that night... Everyone had gone home and Nicky and I were still working in our offices. Back then, I was pretty good at controlling my anger. In fact, I probably wasn’t angry enough... I should have just shot the bastard in the forehead. But he was my best friend—my business partner. I trusted him with my life... It didn’t make sense that he would have killed my Jessica. I thought that the legal papers were wrong, that the name was the same but it was a different person. I just didn’t know...

“He invited me up to the catwalk where he told me had another birthday surprise, so I went. He told me that he had developed a new drug that he was working on—one that I had helped him with. There was this one open basin of chemicals that we were standing over as he was talking about how he had already done a test run while I was embroiled over the past year in Jessica’s death and investigation. He said that he had packaged some and sent them to Arkham because he had a connection with a doctor there... which I later realized was his father. The drug was supposed to ‘calm the crazy’ and it was going to make us billions of dollars.

“That’s when I asked him about Jess. He denied it. He swore up and down that he didn’t have anything to do with it. I told him that I knew he had assaulted her when he was a kid. And that’s when he snapped... We fought on the catwalk and he got a good punch in on me. We struggled for a bit and I was on top of him choking him. That was out of character for me back then. I wasn’t really violent... but I was so angry. And then I felt his feet push on my stomach and kick me off of him. I rolled and fell off the end of the walkway but grabbed the edge, just barely enough grip in my fingers to hang on...

“As I was dangling there, hovering over this basin of chemicals that he designed for insane people, he pulled himself up to me. I’ll never forget what he said... ‘I fucked Jessica because she was _mine_ first. And I killed her so neither of us could have her. She cried and cried out for you, Jack, but where were you? You weren’t there to save her. Or your baby.’ I remember feeling so mad at that very moment as he punched me in the face, breaking some of my teeth. I fell into the vat and sunk to the bottom as the chemicals did their thing to me. Nick left me for dead thinking that I would be dissolved in the chemicals and the heat, but I eventually swam to the surface and climbed out. I got cleaned up at one of the shower stations we had at the plant and I left... I left, vowing my revenge on the man. He must have known that I survived because I followed the news. I know that the authorities were there and they found no evidence of anyone escaping out of the basin. He had to have cleaned up my footprints before the authorities arrived.”

“What happened to you after you left? What happened to Nick?” Harleen asked, entranced with his story.

“I lived on the streets for a while. It was complete freedom. I had lost every single person that I had ever loved, including Nick. I wasn’t even myself anymore. The chemicals were starting to... change me. It took a while, but over time my skin started to change and my hair... well, that started to change, too. I realized that the only one in my corner was me, so I decided to take control. And I came to recognize that we were all pawns in the game of society and I had been lucky enough to be set free. I met up with Frost and we started to wreak havoc on the city. We executed a few heists, but my goal was always Nick. Finally, after a year or two, I had established a name for myself as the Joker. That guy Jack was a distant memory...

“Frost and I started gathering a team and we planned to take all of the assets from my old company—from Nick—and make it look like Nick was committing fraud and embezzling money from ACE along with making payments to the mob. It was a great moment when he made the realization that I was his old buddy Jack. Then I cut out his tongue and broke his back. I didn’t want to kill him. I wanted him to live with the pain of being stuck in a wheelchair as a mute for the rest of his life. When they prosecuted him, he tried to tell them that Jack Napier, his former deceased business partner who fell into the vat of chemicals and dissolved, was the Joker, but no one would listen...”

Harleen stared at Joker, her mouth agape. He was unapologetic about his actions and she started to understand why he was the way he was.

“So... what about Dr. Edwards? Do you think he knew who you were?” Harleen asked.

“He knew just before you shot him in the head, Harl. It was deeply satisfying to see the realization register in his face. I know that Nick had told him but it sounded like Edwards never believed it. Or maybe he did to a degree. Maybe that’s why he hated me so much and insisted on keeping me in the hole and drugged up. Maybe he was giving me those old drugs Nick made. Nick told me that he had a difficult relationship with his father, which is why he stayed with his mom and changed his name to his mom’s after the divorce. So I never knew his dad and I didn’t make the connection until after I got to Arkham the first time I was there a few years ago.”

“J...” Harleen started but couldn’t finish.

“Listen, I know,” Joker said, finally turning to look at her. “I know that this is hard for you. I know that you’re scared because you killed someone you knew. I know that the thought of being with me scares you. I know I’m crazy and hard to love—“

“J, that’s not true,” she started to interrupt.

“Shh,” he responded, sliding closer to her and putting his finger to her lips. “This is hard for me, too. I have spent over a decade suppressing my emotions... I have purposefully not cared for anyone—other than Frost, really—because I know all too well the pain of losing someone. And it’s second nature to me now. It’s part of who I am. Maybe we can blame the chemicals on that.”

Harleen’s dried eyes began to fill with tears once again as she looked into the clear blue eyes of the man sitting next to her. The warm wind blew as the sun peeked around the clouds and the birds sang their melodious spring tunes. Joker looked out over the pond and swallowed.

“Harleen...” he said as he stood up with his helmet in his hands. He took a deep breath and looked at her. “You’ve known me for a while now and you know how hard it is for me to say this out loud, but... I love you. I’m _in love_ with you. I never thought I could feel this way again or even want to feel this way, but I do. I can’t help it. I love you and I want you to come back home. Please come back home...”

Then he leaned in and kissed her on the forehead as she sat in a stunned silence. He put on his helmet, walked up the stairs, and left on his motorcycle, its loud noise causing a flock of nearby birds to seek another tree.

Harleen had watched him walk away but couldn’t say what she wanted to say. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs that she loved him in return but the words just wouldn’t come out. She had sat and listened quietly and intently to his unbelievable story. She thought about the cold day after Christmas in the library where she learned about his true past. She had no idea how terrible it was for him, how terrible life had been to him. She thought of all of the times she had heard him described as a monster—and maybe he _was_ a monster—but she finally understood why. She knew it must have been so difficult for him to sit next to her and pour out his heart. The Joker never does that for anyone. The Joker doesn’t even have a heart. But Harleen was now privy to the deepest, darkest recesses of his soul, and he wanted her to continue to be part of that. He wanted to include her in his life. He wanted her to be with him. He _loved_ her.

Her eyes stung with tears of both sadness and joy as her heart sang along with the birds’ songs. She bit her lips together until they were white and decided then and there to make her choice. It was the same choice she had made so many months ago when she decided she would help Joker break out of Arkham. She was resolute then and she was resolute now. The decision was clear.

*****


	22. An Imminent Return

Harleen arrived home with a solid plan in mind for her return to her life with Joker. She contacted her parents and friends to let them know that she would now be taking another, even longer vacation since she wasn’t away with Joker very long at the beginning of February. She spent the rest of the evening and the next day cleaning her already meticulously organized apartment while she gathered what little clothing she had left as most of it was still at Joker’s mansion. She took a look around her apartment and was satisfied knowing that the next time she would return would likely be to move out completely.

 _Hey Frosty,_ she texted, _I found the tracker app on my phone. I know it was u._

 _Oops, u got me,_ he responded.

_Well, I disabled it, LOL. I’m ready to come back but I want to surprise J. How r u? Can u drive yet?_

_I was just cleared to drive, u want me to pick u up?_

_Yes. Do u know where Gotham Bakery is in White Plains? I’ll meet u there. I’ve ordered something special for J._

_OK, I can be there in 30,_ Frost replied.

Harleen opted to leave her car behind for the moment and instead called for a taxi. She gave the driver directions to the bakery where she had ordered some cakes and a few other things, including cookies with dark chocolate chips—his favorite. She looked out over the Hudson as the taxi drove her across the long bridge leading her out of her quaint little town. It was a trip she took every single day when she worked at Arkham and she smiled thinking that it could be one of her last trips across the bridge.

It was mid-April and spring was in bloom. After her discussion with Joker the day before, she had realized that his old self, Jack, had “died” on his birthday, April 15, 2005. But he was also reborn on that same day as the Joker. She wondered if he had ever had a proper birthday celebration in the past twelve years. Then, doing the math, she realized that he would be turning forty this year on his birthday, which was just a few days away when he visited her at the pond. She smiled to herself hoping that he would appreciate the thought and not be upset by the reminder.

“What this?” Frost asked as she opened the rear passenger door to place two enormous cakes and several plates of cookies inside along with her purse and a few bags.

“This...” she said closing the door and jumping into the SUV, “is for J’s surprise birthday party tomorrow.” She leaned in and gave Frost a huge hug and a loud kiss on his cheek.

Frost smiled and returned the hug and kiss. “It's good to see you, Harley."

"You too, Frosty."

"So, his birthday is tomorrow? How do you know that?”

“Oh, I’m just _that_ good,” she responded as Frost chuckled. “He’s also going to be forty and I know that for a fact!”

“Oh, this is rich!” Frost howled as his chuckle turned into body-shaking laughter. “I’ll never let him live this down!”

Harleen and Frost talked and laughed the whole way to the mansion as they planned the party for the next day.

“Now, doc,” Frost said as he pulled into the driveway of the mansion, “you’re not gonna split again, are you?”

Harleen smiled and stared at the darkened sky adorned with faint streaks of pink from the setting sun behind her.

“No, I’m here for good,” she responded. “I just had to think about some things.”

“Listen, I heard what happened at Edwards’ house. That took a lot of courage to do what you did. I know it must have been hard for you to pick up that gun. I know that’s not you, doc... I know you’re not a killer. And I know that you’re not crazy,” he said.

“So you heard the awful things Edwards was saying about me?” she asked.

“Yeah, we both did. But, trust me, you’re not crazy. You’re the sweetest, most sane person I know!” Frost exclaimed.

“Well, I’m probably a little crazy for hanging out with the likes of you two,” she shot him a sly glance and smiled.

“That could be... could be.” Frost turned into the parking garage and put the vehicle in park. He turned to look at Harleen before she opened her door. “Listen, I know what you did for me,” he said as he reached out and touched her forearm. “I know that you put your reputation on the line by taking me to your doctor friend. He did a real good job of fixing me up. And I have you to thank for that. J and I both have you to thank for a lot of things...”

“Is that why you sent the check?”

“So, Evans told you? Yeah, we figured it was the least we could do. We recovered the money that Ziggy had stolen—five hundred thousand—and we figured that we would give it to the clinic since J said that the doctor made it clear _he_ couldn’t be bought,” he explained.

“That was really nice of you. Thank you for protecting me.” Harleen grabbed Frost’s hand and squeezed it.

Frost quietly escorted Harleen into the basement where she headed up to the third floor.

“I’ll get the food moved into the house and I’ll divert J for a bit. He should be in his office right now. You two have fun tonight,” Frost said, winking at her before she stepped onto the elevator.

Harleen entered the bedroom upstairs and immediately began removing all of her clothing and placed it on the bench in the closet. She looked around and saw that Joker had not touched a thing on her side of the closet. _He really was expecting me to return,_ she thought to herself.

She opened a drawer and found the sexiest, skimpiest piece of lingerie that she knew would drive him wild. She stepped into the lacy red panties that she knew would be removed by him in an instant and then put on her sheer chemise which was connected with a line of sparkling jewels between her breasts. She walked into the bathroom and found her perfume bottle exactly where she left it and spritzed it on her wrists, neck, and chest. Taking one last look in the mirror, she knew was ready to commit herself—body and soul—to him forever.

Walking back to the closet, she reached into her purse and pulled out a baggie full of red rose petals—the same roses that Joker had sent her on her birthday not that long ago. She walked into the bedroom and scattered them all over the floor and the bed and then lit a few candles. She laid down on the bed and faced toward the nook that led to the door and queued up the playlist on her phone that she had created for just this very purpose. Basking in the lovely scent of the petals and the candles, she waited patiently for him to arrive as darkness fell outside.

*****

Frost knocked on Joker’s office door on the first floor and peeked his head into the room. Joker was sitting at his desk staring at his laptop with a pen in his hand.

“Hey, J,” Frost called out, pulling Joker out of his daze. He hobbled into the room on his special-made cane—a gift from Joker. The cane itself was black but was engraved to reveal a layer of silver below, which swirled around the length until it reached the top containing a silver jeweled skull on the handle.

“Hey,” Joker responded. “What are you still doing here? You know you’re not stuck here anymore.” He tilted his head and nodded toward his cane.

“I’m outta here soon,” Frost said, “but I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Well, my eyeballs are about to pop out of my head, but otherwise things are just dandy!” Joker said with a wide silver grin in his typical, over-the-top comical manner.

“Have you thought about the plan? I mean, are we still going to follow through with it?” Frost asked.

“Absolutely,” Joker said, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the desk. He reached down to pull a fuzz off of his colorful striped socks.

“So, tomorrow, then? I can gather all the men. How about six o’clock?” Frost said, smiling slightly.

“Well... Yeah, that sounds good. I wasn’t thinking so soon, but we might as well get it over with,” Joker sighed.

“You know the other thing you had planned?” Frost asked as Joker shrugged his shoulders and shook his head up and down. “Maybe you want to do that tomorrow, too.”

“What are you saying, Frosty?” Joker removed his feet and sat forward in his chair.

“I’m saying that maybe you should close up business for the day...” Frost said as he pulled the pen out of Joker’s hand and closed his laptop. “I’m saying that maybe you should call it a night. Maybe head up to bed. Take your business elsewhere. I’m just sayin’.”

Joker’s heart almost indiscernibly skipped a beat as he slipped his feet back into his shoes.

“Don’t be playing around with me, Frosty. Do not,” he demanded.

“Oh, you know I don’t play,” Frost replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a house to get back to. I have a whole season of _Dancing With The Stars_ that I need to catch up on. I’ll see you tomorrow at six.” Frost winked at Joker and limped out of the room with his cane.

Joker sat at his desk thinking about Harleen. She was waiting for him up in his bedroom. She had finally returned and, this time, he was going to make sure she stayed.

*****

Harleen laid on the bed for about twenty minutes before she heard the door open and the pressure change in the room. Joker entered knowing that she would be there, and it took all of the self-control he could muster to not rip every shred of clothing off of her gorgeous body and fuck her as hard as he could.

He walked into the room and stared at her as she reached for her phone and pressed play.

_Am I out of my head? Am I out of my mind? If you only knew the bad things I like... Don’t think that I can explain it... What can I say, it’s complicated..._

Harleen stood up on her knees as Joker kicked off his shoes and rushed toward her on the bed. Their estranged lips crashed together with a fervent passion as their tongues pushed into each other’s mouths. Harleen’s fingers began to unbutton his shirt as Joker smothered her mouth in hard kisses. Unable to unbutton anything, she pulled away from his face and smiled fiendishly. She grabbed his lapel and pulled his shirt apart causing buttons to fly across the room and ping off the window. Joker growled and pulled her in for another round of kisses.

_Nothing’s that bad... If it feels good... So you come back... Like I knew you would..._

Harleen reached down to feel the bulge in his pants.

“Ohhhh,” she moaned into his mouth as she felt just how hard he was. She would never stop getting turned on by his body and he would never stop getting turned on by hers. She tried desperately to unbuckle and unbutton his pants but her hands were too unsteady causing Joker to remove his own from the tangled mess of her hair to help out.

_And you keep me in with those hips... While my teeth sink in those lips... While your body’s giving me life... And you suffocate in my kiss..._

He got off the bed as Harleen waited on her knees and watched. His shirtless chest heaved in the candlelight as he removed all of his clothing and kicked it away. His body seemed even more muscular than it had ever been before. He stopped for a moment, taking in the vision of Harleen on the bed, waiting for him. He had the same seductive look in his eyes that he had during their first time in the sub-basement of Arkham and all Harleen could think about was him on top of her. She longed to feel him inside of her so badly, her breath shaking as she breathed in and out.

_I can’t explain it... I love the pain... And I love the way your breath numbs me like Novacaine... And we are always high... Keep it strange... Okay yeah, I’m insane, but you the same..._

He came toward her and held her head in his hands as she ran her fingers through his long green hair. They stared into each other’s eyes, the flames of desire burning equally inside their minds.

_You’re my pretty little vixen... And I’m the voice inside your head... That keeps telling you to listen to all the bad things I say..._

Joker leaned in and delicately kissed her supple pink lips, his cock throbbing at the thought of penetrating the silky wet opening between her legs. A hurricane of emotion churned eddies in his head as he thought of how she made him feel, how she seemed to sentence his body to a lifetime of desire. His kisses became restless and fevered as his hands grabbed her hips and began to push down her panties. She sat down on the bed as he pulled them off her legs and tossed them to the side. Harleen shimmied herself to the center of the bed as Joker lunged forward and positioned himself on top of her, his knees between her legs spread open below him.

_The way we love, is so unique... And when we touch, I’m shivering... And no one has to get it, just you and me... ‘Cause we’re just living between the sheets..._

“This reminds me of our first time,” he said in a raspy voice as he bent over to kiss her. “I want you so much, Harleen.”

Harleen paused and grabbed Joker by the neck and pulled him close to her lips. “Then take me, Mr. Joker,” she said in a commanding tone.

Joker’s eyes widened at her words, his mouth exposing his silver smile. He quickly lifted up her hips slightly and placed his tip at her entrance. She was so warm and so inviting and he could hold back no longer. He ferociously pushed his entire length inside of her, causing her to scream out. He rocked in and out of her, the sweat dripping from his forehead onto hers as he leaned in to attempt to kiss. His shaft ached with the ever familiar fire as it always did when he was with her and he wanted nothing more than to feel her tremble around his cock while he released inside of her.

_Don't matter what you say... Don't matter what you do... I only wanna do bad things to you... So good, that you can't explain it... What can I say, it's complicated..._

“Oh, Harley, you feel so good... god, you feel so good... You make me wanna cum...” Joker breathed in her ear as she grabbed his face and pulled him to her lips. She was feeling confident and in control and she wanted him to know.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she panted into his open mouth as he exhaled, his breath and cologne saturating her senses. She never wanted the moment to end. Locking her legs on his hips, she rolled him onto his back with him still inside of her. She pushed her body down hard onto his, completely engulfing his hard cock within her, and then began to roll her hips as she sat on him. Quickly finding her g-spot, she focused her rocking so his shaft would push up against it.

“Oh, J... Oh, J... Oh, J...” she screamed louder with each breath.

Joker looked up at the beautiful woman in the sexy sheer red top riding him, screaming his name with her eyes closed. He felt her body tense and knew she was close, her strong thighs squeezing his mid-section so hard it made it difficult for him to breathe. His hands moved up her thighs to her backside as he clutched onto her butt and helped to hold it down as she rode him. A new song began as their bodies continued to dance in perfect rhythm.

_Tell me what you really like... Baby I can take my time..._

“Har... Harley...” Joker said, moans echoing in his throat, “I can't stop... I’m gonna... I’m gonna...” He couldn’t finish his statement when he felt the fire explode from his loins, shooting up inside of her. His hands now at her waist pushed her down on his body so hard, endeavoring for their bodies to never be separated again.

_I can feel that body shake... And the heat between your legs..._

“Oh, fuck! J!” she screamed as he pushed her down against him causing the explosion to pulsate throughout her abdomen. She continued to rock her hips on his as she rode out her orgasm before collapsing in a sweaty mess on top of him.

_We don’t have to rush when you’re alone with me..._

Harleen sighed as she laid down on top of him, both reeling in the afterglow.

“That was amazing,” she said, barely able to catch her breath. She moved a sweaty strand of green hair from Joker’s forehead as they began to kiss again.

“You’re always amazing,” he responded, smiling at her between kisses.

_You’ve been scared of love and what it did to you... You don’t have to run, I know what you’ve been through... Just a simple touch and it can set you free... We don’t have to rush when you’re alone with me..._

 “J...” she started, “I love you. I know I’ve never told you, but I love you. I am _in_ love with you.”

“I know... I knew on my last day in Arkham when we were in the basement.... You know, you almost told me then yourself.”

“I did?”

“Almost,” he smiled and raised his eyebrow-less forehead. “You were about to say it but stopped yourself.”

“J... you... I don’t know... you just have this _power_ over me. It’s intoxicating. I would do anything for you,” she whispered in his ear as she squeezed his biceps.

Joker smiled to himself knowing that she had the same effect on him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close as the music continued to play.

_I feel it coming... I feel it coming, babe... I feel it coming... I feel it coming, babe..._

*****

The couple slept soundly through the entire night as Harleen laid on Joker’s chest, her head tucked in the crook of his shoulder and her leg lifted up over his thighs. Joker’s embrace barely loosened up as they slept, perhaps subconsciously keeping her close so she wouldn’t leave.

Harleen awoke at dawn to an empty bed. She propped herself up on her elbows as she listened for any movement but didn’t hear anything. She got up to use the bathroom and then grabbed Joker’s soft black bathrobe, wrapping it around herself before returning to the bed. He was nowhere in the room.

She sighed and put her head back down on the pillow feeling sad and wondering if he were downstairs in his office, which is where he always seemed to be. Though she was impressed by his work ethic—staying up late, getting up early, constantly on his cell phone answering calls or texting his men—she hated the fact that she had to compete for his attention. She feared she would be relegated to the outskirts of his life because of his business obligations. _Just like the mob,_ she thought to herself as she closed her eyes.

Her train of thought was broken as she heard the door open and someone walk into the room. She opened one eye to see Joker place a big silver tray on one of the lounge chairs and then approach the bed.

“Good morning, cupcake,” he said in a whisper that dripped with the sweetness of honey. He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek as she smiled.

“Good morning, puddin’” she responded as she lifted herself up onto her elbow.

“Hm...” Joker smiled at the pet name. “I like it.” He turned to the tray on the chair and looked back at Harleen. “I made you breakfast. Hope you’re hungry!”

“It smells delicious!” she said emphatically as she sat up in bed and crossed her legs in front herself. She dove into her omelet made with avocado, bacon, and three types of cheese. “Oh, my god, this is _so_ good! You are such a good cook!”

“Thank you,” he said as he poured her a small tumbler of orange juice. “I guess cooking has been my way of letting off steam and I’ve gotten pretty good over the years. Plus, Antonio has been a great teacher.”

“I’ll say,” Harleen said as she crunched on a perfectly cooked piece of bacon. She handed her empty plate back to him as she took a big gulp of orange juice. “Mmmm, that was amazing! What a lovely surprise—thank you!”

“Oh, speaking of surprises,” Joker said, his voice stilted as if he were hiding something. “I have a few for you today. Would you like to see your next one?”

“Would I?” Harleen clasped her hands together with glee. “You bet I would!”

“Then come with me,” he said as he held out his hand. He led her across the hall to the guest bedroom that he had virtually destroyed during her first absence. “You remember how it looked last time you looked in, right?”

Harleen guiltily shook her head up and down.

“Well, are you ready?” he asked, teasing her, his hand on the doorknob.

“Yes!” she cried out, excited for her surprise.

“Are you _sure_ you’re ready?” he asked again.

“J!!” she yelled out in a faux frustrated tone.

“Well... wait no longer, Ms. Quinzel. May I present to you,” he spoke as he opened the door, “your very own art room.”

“Oh... oh... my... god...” Harleen stammered as she walked into the huge room. Gone was all of the busted bedroom furniture, the mattress against the wall, the sea of garbage, the broken mirror with shards of glass scattered on the floor... In its place were shelving units and tables on one side of the room full of pads of paper, paints, brushes, pencils—anything that Harleen could possibly ever want. Canvases lined the walls from small to large—some so large that she wasn’t sure how he even got them in the house. A huge angled drafting table sat in the middle of the room with a few easels stationed next to it.

Harleen walked through the room, touching the canvases, the desk, the pencils, and the paints. She was in such shock that she walked around the room with her mouth agape in astonishment. She looked back at Joker who was leaning against the door jamb looking as attractive as ever in his burgundy satin robe with the belt tied tightly around his waist.

“This is... I have no words,” she said as she walked over to him. “I love you. Thank you so much.” She stood on her tiptoes as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, feeling his cock stiffen under his robe.

“See what you do to me?” he asked her playfully as he pulled her in for another kiss and pressed his hips into hers. “How about we get a shower. Your art room can wait... but I can’t...”

They rushed back over to the opulent bathroom where Joker started up the shower, the water pouring out like a heavy rain from the huge central shower head. He untied his belt and dropped his robe revealing his perfectly chiseled and tattooed body. He stepped in and stood under the water as his long green hair fell along the sides of his face. Harleen placed her glasses on the counter and then followed suit by untying her robe and letting it fall to the floor. Joker invited her into the glass-walled room with his arms out, beckoning her to join him under the water.

Their lips collided as he pulled her close to him, their wet, naked bodies pressed up against each other.

“I just don’t think I can see you naked... or kiss you... or smell you... or feel you...” he said to her during pauses between kisses, “... without wanting to be inside of you... I can’t stop... thinking about it.”

“Ohhh,” Harleen moaned as she leaned her head back for Joker to kiss her neck, “I can’t stop thinking about it either.”

Joker pushed her against the wall, the water still falling slightly on his head, and passionately kissed her on the lips. She reached down to stroke him as his hand felt between her legs for her soft lips, which were slick with her juices.

“Feel that? _You_ do that to _me_ ,” Harleen said, pausing their kiss to look in his eyes as he rubbed two fingers slowly through her wetness.

He picked her up and pinned her against the wall with his chest and hips, desperately wanting to be inside of her again. She reached her hand down and directed his waiting cock to her opening, causing him to exhale and shudder as he pushed deep inside of her. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he continued to push her against the wall and rock himself in and out of her. He reached his hand up to his head in a futile effort to drag his hair out of his face but then quickly decided to grab and squeeze her round breasts.

Harleen could tell that his breathing was becoming unsteady as he continued pushing against her, with guttural noises escaping his mouth like a wild animal.

“J, I just want to feel you cum in me... Just cum in me whenever you want. Don’t worry about me,” she said as she found his lips again.

“Are you sure? I love making you orgasm,” he said breathlessly. Every muscle in his body flexed as he held her against the wall and pushed in and out of her.

“I want you to cum in me... Oh, god, J, you make me so hot and horny. You make me so fucking wet,” she moaned into his mouth in a sultry voice.

Hearing her words filled him with lust and the desire to explode like a firework inside of her. She continued to speak her dirty words as their imagery filled his brain and started to take him to the point of no return. His cock felt so incredible as her tight wet walls surrounded it.

“Oh, fuck me, fuck me harder,” Harleen told him as she threw her head back and moaned loudly in the spacious shower stall.

“Oh, Harley, god, you feel so good... You’re gonna make me... Oh...” his mouth gurgled, that pleasant fiery feeling flowing out of his body as he quavered inside of her. His heart pounded as the explosion traveled through his abdomen and up his chest in a wave of electric pleasure. He continued to rock against her until his orgasm subsided.

“I love you, Harley,” he said, looking into her eyes and kissing her lips.

“I know,” she responded with a sly grin.

“Thank you for that. It was amazing,” he said as he lightly sucked on her neck. “Tonight is all about you... if you’re up for it.” He returned to nibbling on her ear.

“Oh, I look forward to it,” she responded as he pulled out and placed her gently on the ground. She loved giving him pleasure... she loved his sounds and the way his body moved. She felt like she had power over him when she sent him into ecstasy and it fulfilled that need within her mind, like the way she felt when she was his doctor and he was her patient.

As she leaned against the wall, she could feel their combined fluids flow out of her and she loved it. _It’s a good thing I’m on the pill,_ she thought to herself as she imagined all of the unprotected sex she and Joker had in the past and planned on having in the future. _Maybe some day I won’t need it,_ she smiled to herself as Joker stood back under the shower head and motioned for her to join him. She put her head on his chest as they swayed back and forth under the water, holding each other close.

“You just wait for my surprise for you tonight,” Joker said into her ear, water running down his face. “I hope you like it.”

“I have a surprise for you, too,” Harleen looked up at him and smiled. “I can’t wait.”

*****


	23. A Forever Future

The afternoon had arrived and Frost was busy setting up a ballroom on the first floor to host a party at both Joker’s and Harleen’s separate requests. Joker had an announcement or two to make and Harleen wanted to surprise Joker with a birthday party. Frost couldn’t quite believe how the whole plan was falling together.

Harleen got her hair ready by using her big curling iron to create big loose curls that fell around her face and onto her shoulders. Frost had informed her long ago that there were some extra supplies in one of the rooms downstairs that Joker’s men used to use on heists but weren’t getting much use now—including lots of hair dyes, hairsprays, clothing, masks, costumes, and facial prosthetics. She found some cans of colorful hairsprays and decided to have a little fun by spraying the curly ends of her hair in different colors—one side blue and the other side pink. Then she put on a dark blue slinky dress with a deep plunge in the front showing off her cleavage. For the final touch, she wore her diamond necklace, earrings, and now bracelet as well as a strappy pair of silver heels to accent the outfit. She was ready to celebrate Joker’s birthday in style.

“Oh, you look very, very appetizing,” Joker said as she stepped out of the closet and into his line of sight. “It’s going to take all of my energy to not rip that dress off and fuck you.” He was sitting on the edge of the bed as he took a break from putting on his shoes to gaze lustfully at Harleen. She did a twirl to show off her figure and hair, which caused the blood to rush between his legs where he felt himself stiffen.

“No, puddin’, we have places to go and people to see,” she joked with him in a sing-song voice. “But you can do whatever you want with me later. I promise.” She smiled and bit the air with her teeth in his direction.

Joker stood up and moved toward her as he growled, as if he were stalking his prey.

“You better keep that promise,” he grunted into her ear, sending chills down her body. He had such control over her and she loved it. She thought about what she had told Vanessa about him a few weeks ago and she meant everything she said. Aside from being a bit on the crazy side and being a career criminal, he was the total package—he was _the one_.

“Well, we better head down before Frost has a heart attack,” he said as he stepped back and stood up straight. “How do I look?”

“You look... delicious,” Harleen responded as she looked the man standing in front of her up and down. He wore a black tuxedo with a white shirt and white vest beneath. He completed the look with a white bowtie, a white carnation pinned to his lapel, and black and white wingtip shoes.

“My lady,” he said as he held out his elbow for her to grab on, “the party awaits...”

*****

The ballroom was clad in silver and gold decorations as tables lined the sides for guests. It was originally meant to be a gathering with Joker’s inner circle, but Frost ended up inviting the whole crew, which numbered over 70 people. Being in generally happy spirits, Joker walked around and joked with several of his men as Harleen spoke with Frost about the cakes. She stood at a table near the front of the room and held her glass high as she tapped it with a fork.

“Ahem, excuse me, everyone!” she yelled to the boisterous room, the clinking of her glass cutting through the din and garnering everyone’s attention on the stunning blonde in the dazzling dress. Frost stepped into the room and handed her a microphone.

“Thank you for coming tonight. I, uh... didn’t realize there would be so many of you...” she announced into the microphone as she looked sheepishly around the room and back to Frost. “I wanted to gather you here to help me celebrate a very special day. You see, though you have probably never known before tonight... today is a special day for our beloved Mr. Joker. Today is his birthday, everyone! And it’s a big one! Don’t you know it—he’s forty years old! Happy Birthday, Mr. J!”

The crowd erupted into applause as Harleen made her announcement. Each table was also supplied with party makers, which now filled the room with a hum from the noise of whistles, clappers, and plastic trumpets. She signaled to the men in the hallway who stood at the helm of two carts containing birthday cakes, which were aflame with twenty candles a piece. Harleen smiled her biggest smile ever as she began to sing _Happy Birthday_ to Joker as the rest of the crowd joined in.

Joker was standing at the side of the room near a table—purple cane in-hand—completely unprepared for Harleen’s announcement. His eyebrow-less eyes were open wide with a sense of shock and surprise and maybe a mix of embarrassment. Harleen thought she could see a little pink blush spread across his pale cheeks as he walked toward her as everyone sang to him.  

“I hope this party will be better than the last birthday party you had,” she whispered in his ear as he hugged her tight. _There will be no fighting and falling into vats of chemicals tonight,_ she thought to herself.

“God, you’re so... good,” he responded as he reached up to cup her face and shook his head in amusement.

After being cajoled to make a wish and blow out his candles, Joker walked around the opposite side of the cakes to face the audience and Harleen. Taking a deep breath, he blew out every single candle to the applause of the crowd.

“What did you wish for?” someone called out.

“I’ll never tell. I’ll never tell,” he retorted as he looked at Harleen. He knew exactly what his wish was and he hoped that it would come true in mere moments.

Soon the crowd was clanging their silverware on the table yelling for Joker to give speech to which he responded by putting his hand up to quiet the room. He took the microphone from Harleen and motioned for her to sit down at the empty table next to him.

“Thank you for coming tonight, everyone. And thank you for the birthday surprise. It has been a long time since I really thought about my birthday and this is a stark reminder for me that I’m not getting any younger.” He paused and looked out at the audience with a contemplative look on his face. “I actually had Frost invite you here for a completely different reason, but I guess my sweet Harley here had other plans.” He looked at Harleen and smiled, giving her a wink to let her know that there was more to come.

“I wanted to invite you here because you have all been a good part of my team, some of you have been with me since the beginning,” he said as he looked at Frost. “Some of you—probably all of you—have put your lives on the line by the mere fact that you are associated with me. I get that. I know that can be a tough life. It’s tough on all of us...” He paused and looked at the ceiling as if he were searching for his next words.

“I wanted to bring all of you here because I wanted you to hear this straight from me,” he continued as the audience members started to look at each other in confusion.

“I think it is appropriate, on my fortieth birthday, to announce my retirement from this vast empire that I have built.”

A gasp and a murmur filled the room. Joker looked at Harleen whose hand was pressed against her open mouth, her eyes wide in astonishment at the news.

“Listen, listen...” Joker said, banging his shiny cane on the floor trying to get the crowd to calm down. “I know this is a shock for some of you and probably a relief for others, but know that I have been planning this for many months now.” He looked at Harleen as if to let her know that she was the catalyst for his change in plans. “I have been planning and I am going to divide my liquid assets with all of you. You will all receive a substantial amount. Think of it like a several million dollar severance package. For those of you who have helped me in more significant ways, it will be much more.” His eyes twinkled as he watched the realization register on the faces of the audience members.

“But, why, J?” someone in the crowd called out. “Why are you quitting now when things are going so well?”

“You’re right, things are going well. I’ll keep a few things afloat, like this house and some of the accounts, so I’ll still need a few of you. But I’ve had some moments lately where I’ve realized that certain aspects of this... lifestyle are no longer going to work for me. Oh, believe me, I’ll still find ways to wreak havoc and fuck with people. That’s not going to change... But I have re-discovered that there are a few more important things in life than infiltrating drug rings or supplying guns for the east coast or running servers for illegal gambling operations... I learned that when I met Dr. Harleen Quinzel,” Joker said as he directed everyone’s gaze to Harleen.

Harleen nervously smiled to the crowd, not knowing if they would love her or hate her. At this point, she was really glad that she had made her announcement first because she would be afraid of the audience throwing items at her if she had to talk in front of them at that moment.

“Dr. Quinzel was with me in Arkham. She was my confidante. She is kind and compassionate and an amazing person. She is the strongest person that I know. I have put her in hot water so many times and she just bounces back. This woman... this woman has saved my life. I love her. I’m in love with her.”

Harleen was captivated by his words and she stared at him as if he were the only person in the room. She forgot about the rest of the group. She didn’t care. As much as she may have taught Joker about love, he taught her about being carefree and liberated from her own emotions. She was caught up in her own deep thoughts when Joker interrupted her.

“—what do you think, Harley?”

“Wha-what?” she asked, snapping out of her reverie.

“I have a surprise for you, would you like to see it?” he repeated.

“I... I... yes?” she responded, completely taken aback by the offer.

Joker held up his hand to the men standing in the double doors leading to the hallway and gestured to them with his hand. The next thing Harleen knew was that a huge red box with a yellow bow was being carted in through the doors and into the room. It was so large, it barely fit through the opening and could easily hold a table and chairs for four people inside. Joker pushed the carts holding the cakes to the center of the ballroom to make space for the giant present.

“Harley,” Joker began, “would you do the honors?” He held up the end of the bow for her to take and directed her to stand at the corner of the box.

She walked over to the huge present and pulled slowly on the fabric. As the bow loosened, the walls and lid of the box fell away in four directions. Inside the box on the bottom was a Jack-in-the-Box toy—in particular, a clown on a big spring—with a small box affixed to its head. It was the bright turquoise color that Harleen had come to recognize so easily over the past few months. She stood at the corner of the large box and stared in.

“Well...” Joker said, “you should open it!”

The crowd erupted into laughter at Harleen’s reluctance to grab the box as she was frozen in place. Joker reached in and picked it up for her, removing the outer blue box to reveal a small, black velvet box inside.

“Harleen Frances Quinzel,” Joker said, using her full name so she knew he was being serious, “you mean the world to me. You know that, right?”

Harleen’s hands trembled as she shook her head yes.

“Well, I want you to spend the rest of your life with me,” he said as he opened the black velvet box and got down on one knee. “Will you marry me?” he asked as he turned the box around to show her the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. It was a simple princess cut diamond ring on a platinum band.

The crowd watching the scene unfold gasped and murmured. No one ever believed that the Joker—the forever bachelor, the forever career criminal, the forever monster—would _ever_ want to spend the rest of his life with someone other than himself.

“Oh, my god, J,” she responded as the crowd—and Joker—waited in a stunned silence. “Oh, my god...”

Joker looked up at her and tilted his head as he doubted himself momentarily while waiting for her to respond. Then the tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“Yes... Yes, of course! Oh, my god, of course! Yes!” she practically screamed as her beautiful red lips parted into a spectacular white smile.

He reached in and pulled the ring out, tossing the black box behind him without a care. She walked closer to him and held out her hand as he placed the ring on her finger. Joker stood up and hugged her with all of his might, lifting her off the floor as he kissed her. He set her down and wiped away her tears with his fingers.

“You didn’t have to change for me,” she told him in his ear as she hugged him, speaking in between sobs. “You didn’t have to end your business.”

“I’m not changing, Harley, but you have given me something else to live for... You’ve reminded me that there are still important things in life..." He pulled back and looked into her tear-filled eyes. "I’m not saying that I’ll stop entirely... I still like a few challenges once in a while. But you... you help me temper my hate for the world. I feel like I’ve been given a second chance and it’s all because of you. You saved me in more ways than one, Harley... I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said as the lights dimmed slightly and some soft jazz music began playing on the overhead speakers.

The couple stood staring into each other’s eyes, their concentration broken only by Joker making the announcement to the room to enjoy dinner and to enjoy dessert of cake, cookies, and pudding.

Harleen smiled at the last comment, “Pudding, huh?”

Joker returned her smile and looked deep into her light green eyes. Then they leaned into each other and kissed with an ardor unmatched by any previous kiss the pair ever shared. He pulled her body close as he danced with her throughout the night, never letting her go.

 _Things are going to be just fine,_ Harleen told herself realizing that their love was truly possible.

_Things are going to be just fine._

*******THE END*******

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first ever fanfic! I hope you enjoyed it! It was truly a labor of love.
> 
> I was able to incorporate my artwork into the text, but I do have a ton more that can be found on Tumblr under the user name @chickadee333 and on Flickr at https://www.flickr.com/photos/chickadeedee333/
> 
> And, just for fun, here is the cast of characters that I had in my head as I was writing:
> 
> Cast of Characters:
> 
> Dr. Harleen Quinzel – Margot Robbie  
> Joker – Jared Leto  
> Dr. Wayne Edwards – Xander Berkeley  
> Keith Winston – Michael Cudlitz  
> Jonny Frost – Jim Parrack  
> Dr. Henry Evans – Tom Selleck  
> Harleen’s Mother – Michelle Pfeiffer  
> Harleen’s Stepfather Bob – James Remar  
> Vanessa – Eva Green  
> British Librarian – Charlotte Rampling  
> Teddy – Christopher “Big Black” Boykin  
> Ziggy – James Frain  
> Miles – T.I.  
> Fritz - Steve Zahn  
> Guard TJ Jones – Tyler James Williams  
> Detective Walsh – Aldis Hodge  
> Detective Daniels – Bradley Cooper  
> Ron Tattaglia – Chazz Palminteri  
> Arlo – Giovanni Ribisi  
> Rocky – Jeremy Renner  
> Nicholas "Nick" Hughes – Ben Foster  
> Jessica – Holland Roden  
> Bruno – Bruno
> 
> And here is a list of music that I listened to as I mulled over the plot:
> 
> Music Inspiration (Soundtrack):
> 
> Machine Gun Kelly & Camila Cabello – Bad Things  
> Kehlani – Gangsta  
> The Weeknd – I Feel It Coming  
> AWOLNATION - Jailbreak  
> Depeche Mode – Enjoy The Silence  
> Foreigner – I Want To Know What Love Is  
> Gotye – Heart’s A Mess  
> Foo Fighters – Walking After You  
> Dire Straits – So Far Away  
> Cheap Trick – The Flame  
> Half Moon Run – She Wants To Know  
> Coldplay – Up In Flames  
> The Rolling Stones – Beast Of Burden  
> Chris DeBurgh – The Lady In Red  
> Hey Violet – Guys My Age  
> The 1975 – Somebody Else  
> Twin Shadow – Be Mine Tonight  
> The Kills – Doing It To Death  
> Twenty One Pilots – Heavydirtysoul  
> Muse – Madness  
> Washed Out – Far Away  
> Stone Temple Pilots – Sex Type Thing  
> Billy Idol – Eyes Without A Face  
> Puddle Of Mudd – Psycho  
> Jon Bellion – All Time Low  
> Nine Inch Nails – Closer  
> Depeche Mode – Behind The Wheel  
> U2 – With Or Without You  
> Def Leppard – Hysteria  
> AC/DC – You Shook Me All Night Long  
> The Rolling Stones – You Can’t Always Get What You Want
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this! Please leave a kudo or a comment to let me know what you think!  
> XOXO,  
> D


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